Book 31 - Hot, Scary Summer
by GailDunn2
Summary: WARNING: CONTAINS ADULT CONTENT. Cas has a secret that threatens to tear his family apart. Exactly how far is he willing to go to precipitate a Holy War?
1. God's Mistake

Chapter 1 - God's Mistake

"It's a brilliant plan, dearie," Rowena said with admiration. And at least this time, she was being sincere. Raguel had been extremely disappointed when a little time had passed and there'd been no Holy War. What on earth was Castiel waiting for?

Finally, Raguel had decided that he could wait no more. And that was when he had formulated his plan to jump-start the aggression. If Castiel was under the impression that Crowley had fired the first salvo, then the newly minted God would have no choice but to declare war. And it wouldn't take much to fan the flames, Raguel knew. As an Archangel, he was privy to the history between Castiel and Crowley, and the hostility between the two was legendary.

And, like many senior Angels, Raguel was partial to the quiet, cerebral game of chess. So the thought had occurred to him to play both ends against the middle, just for insurance. The Black team would be deployed to kill humans and any Angels who got in their way, and the White team would be assigned to kill Demons. That way, even if Castiel's people were able to dissuade him from the War, Crowley would surely go on the attack, forcing Castiel's hand. Raguel was playing a Gambit called the Four Knights Game. A simplistic game, to be sure, but it was only his opening move, after all.

Rowena hadn't really understood all his talk about Gambits, and such. She was an intelligent, calculating woman, but she'd never much cared for the game of chess. Too much sitting around, thinking. Bo-ring. She had to admire Raguel's cunning, though, even though it had been her idea to target Demons, too. But Raguel was taking complete credit for that move. That figured. Typical male ego, wasn't it?

They had another drink together.

Frank wiped his eyes with his shirt sleeve. He'd better get a hold of himself. Look at their faces. They thought...

"He's still alive," Frank said in a shaky voice, "but, just barely. They had to bring him back, but he's gonna need some more blood."

They all breathed sighs of relief. It was still one hell of a scary, precarious situation, but the way that he and Jody had come out here, their friends and family had thought the absolute worst.

Gail stepped forward. "Then, he needs me," she said. She told her brother and sister-in-law about her and Sam's clandestine trip to Cathy's office, and the fact that the files seemed to confirm that Gail and Rob did indeed have the same father.

"I'll go get the doctor," Frank said eagerly. As he wheeled around and left the room, Gail turned to Cas. "I'm going to get them to test my blood, and if they like what they see, I'll tell them to start taking it. Please, sweetie, try to hold onto your temper in the meantime. Please." He cocked an eyebrow, and she almost smiled for a moment. "Well, look at me, being all cute," Gail continued softly. Then she sighed. "OK, well then, at least take Sam and Dean with you when you go to see Crowley."

"No. I won't be doing that," Cas said, somewhat stiffly. "This matter is between Heaven and Hell, and me and my brother."

Gail gritted her teeth. "All right, sweetie. But please, please, use your judgement. I know how the two of you are, but please remember how many lives would be at stake if you start the war. You'd better make damn sure he's actually behind this, before you decide." She made a face. "But having said that, if he is, you have to annihilate him, Cas. If Rob dies, so help me..." Her voice broke, and she tried again. "So help me, Cas, the death squad year is going to look like a frolic in the park compared to the blood that will be shed when we take his Kingdom down, piece by piece."

"If you'll come with me, we'll take a sample of your blood and see if it matches," Rob's surgeon said from behind her. Gail reached up and pulled Cas's face down to hers, giving him a kiss. Then she followed Frank and Jody and the doctor down the corridor.

Cas's eyes followed his wife until she turned the corner and he couldn't see her any more. He was extremely troubled now. Hold onto his temper, indeed. His darling wife had no idea. None of them did.

"Have Bobby or Gail call me on Angel Radio, if there are any developments," he snapped at the Winchesters. But before they could reply, he strode angrily around the corner and then winked himself out of the hospital.

Gail and Jody were in the examination room, waiting for the doctor to come back and let them know if they could use Gail's blood for the transfusion. Frank had taken a walk to the washroom, and then he was going to call over to the house and make sure that everything was all right with Angela. Liz was being a real saint about this whole thing. Cas had said that Liz would stay there as long as they needed her to. She had certainly changed from the little brat who used to come over to the house and torment him, when she and Gail had been kids. Of course, to be entirely fair, Frank had been pretty rotten to the girls, too. But such were the relationships between big brothers and little sisters. Frank and Jody sure owed a big debt of gratitude to Liz now, though, and Cas, and Gail. All of them, really.

The nurse had left the room with a tube of Gail's blood in her hand, and now, Gail was sitting with her legs dangling from the examination table, waiting for the verdict. Jody was sitting in the metal chair across from her.

"I'm sorry we scared all of you like that," Jody said, breaking the tense silence. "I could tell by your faces that you thought the worst. But we've all had a very stressful couple of days, haven't we? Some, more than others."

Gail was scrutinizing her sister-in-law's face now. "What else is going on with you, Jody? Even at your birthday dinner, Cas and I noticed that you weren't quite...yourself."

Jody sighed heavily. "I have breast cancer, Gail. After they brought Rob back, I told Frank. That's where I was today, at my doctor's, in Sioux Falls."

Gail's mouth dropped open. "Oh, no, Jody. No."

Jody smiled grimly. "Yeah. So, I don't know who I might have royally pissed off, but I only know that the last day or so will go down in the annals of time as the suckiest ever."

"I'm so sorry, Jody," Gail said in a subdued tone. "You know that if there's anything Cas or I can do for you, we'll do it."

"Well, it just so happens there IS something you can do for them," the doctor said, as he strode into the room. "If you'll follow me, we'll get you set up in the transfusion room. You have the chromosome we were hoping to find. If this works out, we'll have to name it after the two of you. We've never actually seen that particular one before."

Gail and Jody exchanged small smiles as Gail hopped off the table. "Things are looking up," the Angel said to her sister-in-law. She reached out and hugged Jody impulsively. "It'll be all right, Jody. You'll see." But Gail was worried now. Even if Rob rallied, and Jody got treatment for her breast cancer, was her husband right now declaring a war that would threaten the lives of everyone they loved?

Cas had winked over to the abandoned store that was their usual meeting place. He snapped his fingers, and a bowl appeared on the floor, instantly containing all of the ingredients he needed for the summoning spell. All but one, that was. Being God enabled one to use shortcuts, but even that went only so far when you were summoning someone from the dark side. As for the final ingredient, though, in a place like this, that was no problem. He snatched a rat off of the floor and squeezed it tightly, emptying its blood into the bowl. Then he dropped the vermin's pulverized carcass to the floor and he murmured the incantation as he waved one hand over the other, bloody one, cleaning it.

Rudy popped into the store immediately. "My Lord," he said, bowing.

"I told you not to call me that," Cas said angrily. "I may be God, but I'm not your Lord."

Rudy bowed again. "My apologies, Castiel." His black eyes looked into Cas's blue ones. "I assume that you are here to confirm that you will hold up your end of the bargain?"

Cas waved his hand, and suddenly, Rudy was bound in chains. Then the chains attached themselves to shackles on the wall. Cas strode over to where Rudy stood, shackled, and put his blade to the Demon's throat.

"Your Demon was supposed to miss!" he yelled in Rudy's face.

The Demon was scared now. He hadn't heard back from his operative, so he'd assumed that everything had gone off without a hitch. It had been a simple enough task. Crap. Now, he knew why he hadn't received the report; one of the God Squad had obviously offed his designate. Great. Now he was the one who was going to have to deal with an angry God, in the form of an enraged Castiel, which was even scarier. Just terrific.

Rudy stammered, "I don't understand, my L - Castiel. I told my operative that she was only supposed to menace them with the gun, and tell them that Crowley said the Holy War was on. She asked me if she could fire a warning shot, to show them that Crowley meant business, and I told her that wouldn't be a bad idea."

Cas's blood was boiling. "Your 'operative' shot my wife and my nephew, multiple times! If that is your idea of a warning shot, perhaps you won't mind if I give YOU a warning, as well." He ran his blade down Rudy's cheek, cutting deep, and then he did the same thing on the other side of Rudy's face. The Demon hissed in pain, but he said nothing. If he got out of this meeting with just those couple of blemishes, he would consider himself extremely lucky.

Cas was seething. "My instructions to you were very clear. No one was to be harmed. Now, my nephew is clinging to life. If he dies, you will pray for death, with what I will do to you."

Rudy still said nothing, mainly because he had no idea what to say. The bitch had gone off book, all right. He should probably just have taken care of it himself. But when Castiel had approached Crowley's lieutenant with his proposition, Rudy had been eager to make the deal. It had occurred to him to wonder why God would propose such a deal, and he had inquired. But Castiel had shut him down, stating that it was none of his business. Did he want the deal, or not? If Rudy took care of that for Castiel, Castiel would kill Crowley in return, and then Rudy would be free to assume the throne.

But now, the plan had gone terribly awry. Rudy's operative had probably been one of the multitude of Demons who bore a grudge against Castiel. Maybe Rudy should have done a background check, or something. Boy, you couldn't trust anyone these days.

Cas was enraged, but a large part of the anger that he was taking out on Rudy was actually the loathing that Cas felt for himself. All this time, he had been deceiving everyone. He had come back from his desert pilgrimage acting like he was cured, and for a brief period of time, he genuinely thought that he had been. But then, the bad thoughts had started up again, until he had been in the throes of a full-blown obsession. The Holy War needed to happen. But by now, Cas knew that none of his loved ones shared his opinion. So, rather than keep arguing with Gail and everyone else, Cas had come up with this scheme. If Crowley were to be behind such a heinous act, Castiel's desire to enter into the Holy War would be warmly embraced by his family and friends. But no actual harm was supposed to have occurred, of course. Now, the plan had backfired beyond comprehension. If Rob were to die, Cas would...what? What would he do, exactly?

Rudy was still scared spitless, but he was also looking at Castiel with contempt. What kind of God made deals with Demons to threaten his own family? Castiel's reputation was legendary in Hell, with good reason. And some days, it was almost impossible to distinguish him from his designer suit-wearing brother. As one of Crowley's lieutenants, Rudy was privy to the true relationship between the two. In fact, there was hardly anyone who didn't know about it anymore. Rudy had understood Castiel's wanting to kill Crowley. Many of his own Demons did, too. The kinder, gentler approach Crowley had employed after the year of the death squads had only been temporary, and it had only been a bait-and-switch tactic on Crowley's part, anyway. The King was a cruel despot, pure and simple, and there were a number of up-and-comers who wanted Crowley's throne for themselves. But it was Rudy who Castiel had picked. They had known of each other by reputation for centuries, ever since way before the Angel Wars. Rudy had been hearing rumours that the modern-day Castiel had gotten soft, ever since he had gotten married and gotten an extended human family. But when Castiel had summoned Rudy to this abandoned store a few days ago, dressed in black clothes and looking almost manic, Rudy had seen for himself that the rumours of a tamed Castiel had also been a bait-and-switch.

"What are you going to do, Castiel?" Rudy sneered. "Kill me? Kill us all? Isn't that kind of the point of a war?"

"Then why did you agree to help me?" Cas asked the Demon, puzzled now.

"Because Crowley's gotta go," Rudy replied. "And because, once you get rid of him for me, I'm going to be the new King."

Cas smiled grimly. "Of what?" he asked. "I'm going to lay waste to every Demon, and then I'm going to destroy Hell."

"Yeah?" Rudy retorted. "Is that right? Not before I kill all of your people first, starting with that cute little wife of yours. You stirred up a hornet's nest, Castiel. You should have left well enough alone. Crowley wants no part of a Holy War. But clearly, for some reason, you do. Well, you'll have nobody but yourself to blame if the first casualty of the war comes from your own family."

Cas reached out and put his hand on Rudy's head. The white light came up through Cas's arm and out of the palm of his hand, into Rudy's skull. The Demon screamed in utter agony as the smiting filled every ounce of his vessel. His eyes and ears bled, and then turned black, as his flesh burned.

A moment later, Rudy's vessel crumpled to the ground, a black, smoking husk. Cas looked down at it dispassionately, wishing that he had the power of revival so that he could bring Rudy back, just so he could smite him all over again. He wiped his hand on his pants, a look of disgust on his face. That was what he got for getting involved with a repugnant individual like Rudy in the first place. If you lie down with dogs, you wake up with fleas. Everybody knew that.

Cas winked himself out of the abandoned store and over to Gail's bench, outside their old apartment building. He still came here every so often, when he needed some solitude. It was funny how many years had passed, yet he still came here, and he still thought of it as her bench.

He sat down heavily, lost in thought. What was he doing? Cas was God now, not some kind of hoodlum. But yet, here he was, getting mixed up with lowlifes like Rudy. He was regressing back to the type of individual he had been when he and Jason had been cohorts, during the time of the Angel Wars. When the end justified the means, and anything went, as long as you could get away with it. What the hell was he doing?

Cas hung his head, looking at his hands. There was a lot of blood on them, and not all of it was from way back when. Young Rob, the boy who had prayed constantly to Patricia for Cas's deliverance when Cas had been in prison, and then prayed to his God Castiel to keep everyone in their family safe, was fighting for his life right now. And if he died, Cas might as well, too. Was the Holy War so important that it was worth sacrificing his family over?

Castiel and Jason, Jason and Castiel. There had been a lot of dark secrets and even darker deeds between the two of them back then. Cas had worked very hard on himself to transcend the kind of individual he had been during that era, but Jason had not. Jason had embraced the darkness, so much so that he had ended up a vampire, somehow, and in Lucifer's employ. But when Lucifer had sent the former Angel out to lead one of his death squads, Jason had taken to the wind. Where was he now? Cas thought that they had killed Jason at that hotel in Romania, but he'd found out later that he'd been duped. Where would Jason be now? He seemed to have fallen off the face of the Earth. Cas had sent out The Eye to look for Jason as soon as he had become God, because Jason was a formidable enemy. His tactics were insidious and underhanded. He had violated Gail in Romania, successfully drinking her blood several times. So Cas had searched the world over for Jason, but Cas had been unable to find him. This had become an all-too-familiar refrain by now. How was he supposed to protect Gail and the rest of them from the worst of their enemies if he couldn't find them? And the same held true of Gail's father, Vincent. That man had a surprising array of powers, and Cas could tell from the brief confrontation they'd had at Quinn's place that Vincent was much more than just a human man who dabbled in voodoo. No, he was some kind of an ancient Being. But even God could only deal with one crisis at a time, and at the moment, Castiel's obsession with the Holy War had led him here.

What the hell was the matter with him? Even as he'd been doing all of those wonderful, Godly things, and having parties with his wife and his family, the notion of the Holy War had been picking away at his brain, like an itch that he couldn't...quite...scratch. Cas had told Gail that he was no longer considering it, but he had lied. It had become an all-consuming obsession for him now. But something was holding him back from simply declaring war. What would be his justification? There had been no hostilities from Crowley, not since the day that Cas and Gail had taken the King to their house and held him there, albeit briefly. Crowley had reacted violently on that day, but his reaction had been entirely logical. What was Cas's logic? Hate? Loathing? Those were emotions, and they were emotions he'd had for Crowley ever since the time of the Beginning. So what was the reason behind this sudden need for a war? Because Patricia had suggested to Castiel, when he had been her prisoner, that it was a good idea? He was supposed to be better than that now, wasn't he?

In order to feed his obsession and provide justification for it at the same time, Cas had come up with this idea. It was a stroke of brilliance, or at least he'd thought so at the time. His loved ones would back him to the hilt if they thought that it was Crowley who had started the aggression by attacking their family. Tonight, at the hospital, Gail, Dean and Frank had all told him that they would gladly take up arms and follow him into battle if he needed them to. But Cas didn't want them to. He'd only wanted their support. He didn't want his darling wife or any of their family to put their lives on the line. It was bad enough that the Angel cadets would have to do so. He'd sent out the word that the Academies were no longer mandatory, but the Angels kept on signing up anyway, because they believed in Cas. And how was he repaying them for their loyalty and devotion? By creating a war machine that would probably kill at least half of them.

Gail had told her husband that no one would ultimately win in a Holy War, and intellectually, Cas knew that she was right. So then, why did he persist in this goal to bring about death and destruction?

Cas heard Gail's voice in his head now. At first, he'd thought it was because he'd been thinking of her. He frequently heard her voice in his head when they were apart. Depending upon the reason for their separation at the time, Cas could call up any number of things she had said to him in the past to comfort him, if he was feeling sad, or to make him smile. He remembered every word of every phrase of every sentence she had ever uttered to him, ever since the first day they had met. She had no idea. Sometimes she got angry with him, accusing him of not paying attention to what she was saying, because he wasn't reacting to it. But nothing could be further from the truth. The fact of the matter was that he was soaking up every syllable, just like a sponge, so that he could refer back in the future to what she was saying to him now.

Gail would be devastated if she ever found out about Cas's dealings with Rudy. In point of fact, Castiel thought that the only thing that had been holding him back from just declaring war outright thus far was the fear that it would alienate his wife from him. Cas pretty much lived for her good opinion of him. He never stood taller than when she looked at him admiringly and told him she was proud of him. But she certainly wouldn't be proud of him now, would she? If Rob died, it would be Cas's fault. How would he ever be able to look his wife in the face again if that happened?

But her voice was not in his memory in this particular instance, or in his imagination, either. She was asking him how his meeting with Crowley was going, and advising him that they were taking blood from her now. Apparently, it had the chromosome they were looking for. She was hooked up to an intravenous apparatus that worked sort of like a vacuum cleaner, she was telling Cas now. It was siphoning the blood from her veins into an IV bag, which they were then going to take to Rob's room, to introduce its contents into his bloodstream. Then, if that improved his colour and his vital signs, they were going to repeat the process. She had told them that they could have it all, if they needed it. Whatever it took. The priority was to save Rob.

Cas's heart broke a little. His poor, sweet wife, giving up her vessel's life's fluid so that Rob might live. He popped himself over to the hospital immediately, and then he walked into the room where Gail was. He stared at the machine that was siphoning the blood out of her. She looked pale, just as she had in Romania, when Jason had been draining her blood for his own selfish purposes. Out of all of the billions of people on this planet, Jason had chosen to prey on Castiel's wife. He had been sending a message to his former compatriot, one that had been largely missed within the bigger picture of eradicating Lucifer. But now, there seemed to be some kind of symbolism at play, here. Jason's draining of Gail's blood signified death and darkness. But here she was now, laying on a stretcher in a bright white, antiseptic hospital room, having her blood drained in the hopes that it would provide life. Which was the more desirable option?

"Please don't take too much," Cas said to the nurse charmingly. He sat on the edge of the hospital bed, taking Gail's hand in his. The guilt was eating him alive. All of this was Cas's fault. All of it.

The nurse excused herself, leaving the room. "She said it'll probably take another ten minutes or so, until the bag is filled up," Gail told her husband. "So, while we're waiting, tell me: how did the meeting with Crowley go? I'm really hoping that you're not going to tell me we're at war. But if you tell me that you had to smite him a little, or a lot, please know that I'm perfectly okay with that." She was feeling a little giddy now. Just the fact that they were planning to transfuse Rob so aggressively had given her hope that they thought her nephew could rally, even though the doctor hadn't said as much out loud.

Cas opened his mouth, intending to confess to his transgressions and beg her forgiveness. But, before he was able to get up the courage, Rob's doctor strode into the room.

"So, how are we doing?" he asked Gail.

"I don't know about YOU, but I'M fine," she quipped. "You know, I always thought that was a cliche, when medical personnel use the royal 'we' to ask how their patients are doing."

"Sorry, I guess I regressed there for a minute," the doctor said, checking the blood bag. "I binge-watched Grey's Anatomy last night. That Patrick Dempsey really IS McDreamy."

Gail's lips twitched. "I like this guy," she said to Cas.

"Doctor, what is Rob's prognosis?" Cas asked the man quietly.

"It's too soon to tell," the physician responded. He unhooked the bag from its stand, sealing it. Then he removed the needle from the crook of Gail's arm and placed a piece of gauze there, telling her to press down on it. Then he picked up the blood bag. "We'll start the transfusion immediately. If there's any change to the patient's condition, we'll let you know."

Cas stood from the bed, facing the doctor. "Please tell me that he'll be all right," Cas said earnestly.

"We're doing everything we can. That's all I can tell you," the doctor said curtly. Then he walked past Cas and left the room.

"Cas!" Gail exclaimed, and her husband rushed back to where she lay. "Are you all right?" he said, agitated. "Do you feel all right? Do you need me to get someone?"

"I saw it, Cas," she said, starting to smile.

"What? What did you see?" he asked her, puzzled.

"When he took the bag off the stand, I saw a glint of gold in my blood, just for a second. He's going to be all right, Cas. I'm sure of it," she said excitedly. Then, when her husband remained silent, her heart sank. "What happened with Crowley?" she asked him again.

"I didn't go to see him," Cas told her. "I thought it wouldn't be a good idea to meet with him while I was angry."

She was scrutinizing his face. Since when? "That was smart of you, sweetie," she said slowly. "So, where did you go, then? Sam and Dean said you just suddenly disappeared."

"I...I went somewhere for quiet contemplation," Cas said miserably. If Rob was going to be all right, there was no need for her to know, he told himself now.

Gail was looking at him closely. Why did she have the very strong feeling that Cas was lying to her? But if he hadn't gone to confront Crowley, then where would he have gone that he didn't want her to know about? She swung her legs off the bed and made to stand up, but her knees buckled. Cas caught her, and he held her steady until she regained her equilibrium.

"How much blood did they take from you?" he asked her, his eyes narrowing.

"Just what you saw here," Gail replied. "I'm just lightheaded from the stress, I guess. But I told you, if it works, I'm giving them more. As much as they need. But in the meantime, while we're waiting to find out, let's go."

"Go?" he repeated blankly. "Go where?"

"To see Crowley, of course," she said pointedly. "I'm going with you. We're going to get our answers. And don't worry. If they're the wrong ones, I'll back you all the way, Cas. Whatever you decide to do. But, let's just make sure, first. Okay?"

Now, Cas was pretty much painted into a corner. It would be pointless for him to confront Crowley when he knew that Crowley wasn't the slightest bit responsible for what had happened. But Gail was going to insist, and it would look too suspicious if Cas demurred. "Where is everyone else?" he asked her, stalling for time.

"Frank and Jody and Bobby are in the waiting room," Gail responded. "Jody made Sam and Dean go back to the bunker to get some sleep, since it's gotten so late now."

Cas nodded. It was just as well. He didn't want to have to involve anyone else, if he could help it. He sent a message to Bobby on Angel Radio, asking their friend to contact him immediately if there was any change in Rob's condition. Then he sighed, and he took Gail's hand.

"Explain yourself," Cas snapped the instant Crowley appeared.

The King of Hell appraised him coolly. "Still a master of the social graces, I see," he said sardonically. "Too busy liberating all those souls, I imagine. How is Paul enjoying Heaven? More so than the first time, I daresay. Well, he's your problem now. Maybe you should hide the white pillowcases when he comes over, though, sweetheart. We wouldn't want him to misunderstand."

Cas was aware of the delicate dance he was going to have to perform now. On the one hand, he knew very well that Crowley was going to disavow any knowledge of an attack, because the King of Hell had not been behind said attack. But on the other hand, if Cas didn't act as if he was enraged, Gail's wind would be up. This was a bad idea. But he'd had no choice.

Gail felt no such reticence. "You said you didn't want the Holy War!" she exclaimed.

Crowley looked at her, surprised by her tone. "That's right; I don't," he said calmly.

"Then maybe you wouldn't mind explaining to me why you sent one of your Demons after Rob and Dean and me, to shoot us with a gun!" she yelled.

His mouth dropped open. What? "I didn't, sweetheart," the King said, puzzled.

"Yeah. Right. I guess we shot ourselves, then," she said acidly. "My nephew is in the hospital right now, fighting for his life. But it's you who's obviously got the death wish. I'm going to enjoy seeing Cas annihilate you."

"Wait a minute," Crowley said, holding up his hand. "What are you talking about?" Gail told him, and the King added, "Your information is faulty. I gave no such order. What did the shooter say, exactly? And will young Rob be all right?"

Gail looked at him, wide-eyed. Then she looked at Cas. Unbelievable. Cas realized he'd better say something. "As if you care," he said angrily. "Don't pretend that you are concerned." He slowly raised his hand. "I could wave this hand, and burn you right down to the ground. I'm not so sure I shouldn't just do it, anyway. The last time I saw you, you were holding a shard of glass to my wife's neck. Goodbye."

Cas made a motion as if to wave his hand, and Crowley yelled, "Wait! I think I might know what this is all about."

Cas lowered his arm slowly, and Crowley continued, "There's a sect of my Demons that has gone rogue. My sources tell me that they have been vowing to take out all of the Hunters, and the Angels that support them here on Earth. But they're not working at my behest," he said quickly.

"My nephew is clinging to life right now," Gail hissed. "You'd just better hope he recovers."

Crowley sighed. "I told you, Gail, it wasn't me. But, if you want the truth, it would probably be better for everyone all around if he did not survive."

"What did you just say to me?" Gail said, raising her voice. She threw her arm out and sent a golden beam in Crowley's direction. He lifted one of his arms, deflecting it easily.

"You have ten seconds to explain that remark," Cas said, tight-lipped. But he stepped in front of Gail, just in case. "Why are you coming for my family, all of a sudden? You claim you don't want the war, but your actions would seem to suggest that you do."

"I told both of you, Castiel, they're rogues," the King said through gritted teeth. "There are two teams. The Black team's assignment is to dispatch humans, and the White team are assigned to deal with the Angels."

"He's lying! The female Demon who attacked us was wearing red!" Gail yelled to Cas. "And just how does he know so much about this, if he's not behind it?"

Crowley's forehead wrinkled. "Red? Are you sure?"

Gail was pushing at Cas now. "Get out of the way, and let me kick his ass!" she fumed.

"Restrain your wife," Crowley said testily. "I'm making allowances due to her family trauma, but I won't stand here and let her take potshots at me without retaliating, either."

"Gail, please," Cas pleaded with her. "Please remain calm. Let us ascertain exactly what is going on, first."

Gail stopped jostling with him, but she was glaring daggers at Crowley. It was strange, really. She'd thought she would be the one who would be restraining Cas, not the other way around.

"Explain," Cas said curtly.

"From what I've been able to find out, the two teams wear either Black or White clothing. They will fan out, using the state as a kind of chessboard. I've been having their movements monitored for a while, and it looks like they're getting into position. But, as far as I knew, they hadn't actually struck, yet. An attack from a female in red, though? That's news to me."

"Why didn't you tell me about this before?!" Cas exclaimed, and now, he was genuinely enraged. Was Crowley telling him that there actually WAS a plot to attack Cas's loved ones, one he knew nothing about?

Crowley looked at Cas, raising an eyebrow. "Hello. King of Hell. The less of my enemies that exist, the better for me. But, I have always told my people to leave your lot alone. Besides, my intel suggested that no such move had yet been made. This rebel cadre has obviously not only thumbed their noses at my edict, they have specifically targeted those nearest and dearest to you."

"And what would their endgame be, do you suppose?" Cas said, intrigued. Gail looked at him sharply. There was a strange quality to his voice now, a casualness that put her on alert.

Crowley had noticed it too, and he was trying not to smirk. Look at the look on Gail's face. As long as she had been with Castiel now, it was amusing to see that she was still surprised at what a cold and calculating individual he could be sometimes. "Isn't it obvious?" Crowley said in response to Cas's question. "They expected you to rush over here and threaten to smite me, thinking that I had ordered the first shot across the bow. And here you are, right on cue. Well, I've told you before and now I'll tell you again: I have no desire to wage war with Heaven, Castiel. I said that I would have no choice but to fight it, if YOU were to initiate it. But, and I don't see how I can be any clearer on this: I don't want it, Castiel. So now, what we have to figure out is: Who is it who wants you to THINK that I want the Holy War, and how can we figure out where they'll strike next?"

Cas's head was spinning. This thing had taken on a life of its own. And here he had been, thinking that this little jaunt was going to be a complete waste of his time. Castiel had learned his lesson, he told himself now. No more scheming. If Rob got through this all right, Cas was going to forget about the Holy War. Whether he would actually pluck up the courage and fall on his metaphorical sword, telling Gail about his deal with Rudy, would remain to be seen. But apparently, there was actually a real threat out there. Castiel's primary emotion right now was relief. Imagine a conspiracy theorist who had received confirmation that every plot that they had ever imagined was absolutely, one hundred percent true.

He grabbed Gail's hand. "I'll be in touch," Castiel said tersely, winking her away.

It was shortly after dawn the next morning, and even though the hour was early, the day was already shaping up to be an eventful one.

Frank and Jody had been allowed to visit Rob for a few minutes, and they were standing by his bedside now. The doctor had advised that there had been no change in their son's condition, but he had not gotten any worse, either. If no improvement was seen by mid-morning, perhaps the doctor would ask Gail if she felt healthy enough for one more donation. Frank's lips had twitched briefly, and he had said he didn't think that would be a problem.

The last drops of Gail's blood were entering Rob's body now, and as it entered his veins, Rob felt a warm sensation, kind of like the way he felt when his mom kissed him on the forehead, or his dad gave him a hug.

Rob had been teetering on the border between consciousness and unconsciousness for most of the night, but he was awake now. His eyelids fluttered. "What time is it?" he asked his parents.

Jody gasped. She put her hand on his arm. "It's morning," she said softly. "How do you feel?"

Rob opened his eyes. "I feel great, Mom." He moved to sit up in bed. When he met with resistance, he looked beside him at the IV pole, and the life support machine. "What's going on?" he asked his parents. Then a look of comprehension crossed his face. "Oh my God! Are Uncle Dean and Aunt Gail okay?"

Frank started to cry silently. After everything his son had just been through, the first thing he wanted to know was how his aunt and uncle were doing, Frank thought. "Relax, kiddo, they're doing fine," he told Rob. "I'm going to get the doctor," he told Jody. He took one last look at Rob and then hurriedly left the room.

"Can you help me get this thing out of my arm, Mom? It hurts," Rob said to Jody. "Man, I hope Cas got his car back. I'd hate to have to pay for his ticket out of my allowance if they towed his car." Now Jody was crying too, and Rob smiled. "Sorry, Mom. I was just trying to be funny, like Dad, or Aunt Gail. I'm gonna be fine. Don't worry about me. It's YOU we have to worry about, now. I'll come visit you when you have your operation, and I won't leave for Vancouver until they tell us that they got it all. OK?"

Now Jody was bawling. Of course Rob knew. He always knew. But, it had certainly saved her the stress of trying to think of the right words to tell him, anyway. That thought made her laugh, and now she was crying and laughing at the same time.

"Can I have a hug?" Rob asked her. She sat down on the edge of the bed and held her son.

"Come on, Sammy, let's go," Dean urged his brother. "I wanna get to the hospital."

"I'm coming," Sam told him. He closed the door behind him and came into the bunker's garage, carrying coffee in travel mugs for the both of them. "I thought we wouldn't want to waste time by going through the drive-thru."

"Thanks," Dean said, nodding to his brother in acknowledgement.

Dean started up Baby and then pressed the button on the remote to open the garage door. He pulled the car out of the garage, waiting until the door closed behind them. Ever since Lucifer, he and Sam had been a lot more security-conscious. Sam had even installed a closed-circuit camera just under the overhang by the steel entry door, and it was attached to a motion sensor. It was a great idea, but Sam's innovation didn't help them in this instance.

A half dozen Demons suddenly appeared, surrounding the car. They were all armed with handguns, and they began shooting at the brothers. There were a couple of things that saved Sam and Dean from immediate execution. The first was the fact that Demons were, by and large, bad shots. Most of their killings were accomplished at close range, and most of the entities they killed by blade were otherworldly beings, or humans whose necks they were able to snap instantly. They were unused to firearms, and to the kick associated with larger guns. So their first barrage missed the brothers altogether. Then, as they attempted to correct their aim, the Demons on either side of the car tried, succeeding only in winging each other.

"Hit the deck, Sammy!" Dean yelled. He mashed his foot on the accelerator as Sam dove to the floor of the car. It had rained overnight, and the car spun in the mud. But then the Impala's tires caught, and the car fishtailed, spraying mud on the Demons. Dean left them in his rearview mirror, coughing and sputtering, wiping mud out of their eyes.

"Call Cas," Dean instructed his brother as he hightailed it down the road, but Sam was already climbing back into his seat, his cell phone in his hand.

A moment later, Cas appeared behind the bunker. "Dean is right; Demons really ARE stupid," God remarked. He snapped his fingers, and the group of Demons disintegrated, one by one. He waited another few moments, but there were no further appearances, so he winked himself back to the hospital.

"I'm getting really tired of those black-eyed asshats shooting at me," Dean was grumbling as he and Sam entered the hospital. "I'm gonna start carrying a piece, everywhere I go."

"That's a good idea, but we'll have to leave them in the car when we get here," Sam remarked. He pointed to the metal detectors near the entrance. Their presence was a sad commentary on the kind of society they lived in these days, Sam thought.

The brothers took the elevator upstairs. Cas had called Sam back as soon as he had dispatched the Demons to let them know that it had been handled. He'd told them that he and Gail and Bobby were in the waiting room, that Rob had woken up earlier, and that the youth had seemed to have made a full recovery. He was off the machines, and after a couple of tests were conducted, he might even be released to go home.

The mood in the waiting room was jubilant. Gail sprang out of her chair and ran over to the brothers, giving them each big hugs.

"I'm starting to think it's you," Gail quipped to Dean. "Maybe if you were a bit more polite, people would stop shooting at you."

"Very funny," Dean said, making a face.

"He's going to be all right, Dean," she said softly, and he embraced her tightly, fighting back tears.

"Hold on. I'm getting something," Cas said to the group. A moment later, he added, "There's a report coming in. A small group of individuals dressed in white went to a Demon safe house on the east side of the city and slaughtered all of its occupants."

They all exchanged glances. When Cas and Gail had gotten back from their meeting with Crowley, they had shared their conversation with everyone.

"How do ya know he's telling the truth, Cas?" Bobby had asked.

"What he said was too specific to be anything other than the truth," Cas had replied, but Bobby was shaking his head. "No, what I mean is, how do you know he's not lying to you about giving the order?"

Frank was frowning. He and Jody had been shooed out of Rob's room by the medical staff, while they ran some tests on the boy. Gail's brother was very interested in this discussion, for obvious reasons. "I'd like an answer to that question, too," he'd said.

Cas had gazed steadily at the men. "Because Crowley knows that I am God now, and that I could obliterate him with just a wave of my little finger. Yet he stood there facing me, swearing that he was not responsible. So he is either telling me the truth, or he's running the biggest bluff of his existence. And if he's lying to me, I can find him anywhere. I could even go down to the depths of Hell and drag him out. He knows that. Therefore, I must conclude that he is telling the truth."

Frank heaved a sigh. "OK, Cas. Since it's you, I'll accept that. But then, who IS behind it, and more importantly, what are we gonna do about it?"

Gail was looking intently at Cas. There was something her husband wasn't telling them. Maybe a few things. "Wait a minute," she said. "Crowley told us these so-called rogues are targeting humans and Angels. Black for humans, White for Angels, that's what he said. The guys that went after Sam and Dean were wearing black. Check. The girl who shot us was wearing red, though. OK, maybe she was confused because we were two humans and one Angel, or maybe she just didn't get the memo on the dress code. Whatever. But Cas just said that a group of individuals dressed in WHITE just killed a bunch of DEMONS. Demons, not Angels. Is anyone else as confused as I am?"

"Did you order the strike, Cas?" Bobby asked pointedly, and Cas's blood ran cold. Then he realized what Bobby meant. "No, Bobby, I didn't order those Demons' murders as retaliation," he said quietly.

"Well then, what the hell is going on?" Dean asked angrily.

While they were all standing there, puzzling over this, a voice from behind them said: "I'm ready to go home, now."

Rob's doctor was pushing Rob towards them in a wheelchair. Rob was smiling. "You should see your faces."

"Just like that? We can take him home?" Jody said, open-mouthed.

"Your son's recovery has been nothing short of miraculous," the physician told her. "You all must have been praying a lot." As the group smiled at each other, the doctor looked at Gail. "I'd certainly like to run a few tests on your blood, sometime," he said to her. "You must have some kind of a magical ingredient in your veins."

"Nahhh, just a lot of wine," Dean wisecracked, and Gail elbowed him in the ribs, hard.

"I'll get going, now," the doctor said. "I have actual sick people to attend to." He touched Rob's shoulder gently, smiling. "Go home, Rob. Enjoy your life."

They all thanked him, and when he was gone, Rob got out of the wheelchair. "I don't need that," he told them. "He said it's hospital policy, but I think it's kind of stupid."

"Are you sure you're OK?" Bobby asked the boy.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Grandmaster B," Rob replied.

"Wait, what?" Dean said.

"Bobby and I have been playing chess online," Rob answered. He moved over to where Bobby stood and gave the Angel a gentle nudge. "We were joking about how I used to call him Grandpa God. He said 'Grandpa' made him feel old, and besides, Cas is God, now. So, since he's been teaching me how to play chess, we came up with that name."

"Sorta like Grandmaster Flash," Bobby told the group, his beard twitching.

"What do YOU know about Grandmaster Flash?" Frank asked Bobby, while Sam said, "You play chess?"

Bobby sighed, looking at Frank. "OK, first off: Just because I have Lynyrd Skynyrd on my playlist, that don't mean I can't appreciate a little Parliament Funkadelic too, from time to time." Then he looked at Sam. "And secondly, how many times do I have to tell ya, boy? Southern doesn't automatically equate with stupid. When I was on the campaign trail in Heaven, I noticed that a lot of the older Angels enjoy a game of chess. I played a little when I was here on Earth before, but I never really had much time to become a real student of the game. So when Rob suggested he and I should play a game with each other online, I said how about chess?"

There was that reference to the game of chess again, Cas thought uneasily. Killers wearing black and white, attacking humans, Demons, and, potentially, Angels. Moving around the city, getting into position, like men on a chess board. Older Angels, playing chess in Heaven. Grandmasters. Cas's knowledge of popular culture had been greatly helped along by Metatron, and it had grown exponentially since, but he had no idea what a Funkadelic Parliament would be. Was it some form of international government, maybe? But he did understand chess. Many people thought it was a slow, boring game, but not Cas. One of the many, many things Cas loved about his wife was that she enjoyed the sport of baseball, and baseball was really just chess played with live human beings. Now, it seemed as if there was a Grandmaster behind the scenes, using Demons to try to manufacture a war between the two realms. The diseased part of Cas, which was a regrettably large part of him, was itching to retaliate, as Bobby had suggested, for the perceived attack on his family. Why not take advantage of the golden opportunity he had been given? But his head was reeling now. If Crowley wasn't behind these new attacks, who was? Perhaps Crowley WAS lying, but Cas really didn't think he was. Who would benefit if the Holy War was triggered?

"Cas!" Dean exclaimed, waving his hand in front of his friend's face.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I was woolgathering," Cas said mildly.

"I just wanted to thank you for taking care of those Demon sons of bitches for us," Dean remarked.

"Oh. You're welcome," Cas said absently. Then he looked at Frank and Jody. "Bobby will escort the two of you and Rob home, and Gail and I will go with Sam and Dean. Until I can find out what is going on, I don't want any of you going anywhere without an escort. If you need anything, anything at all, you call me."

"Don't worry about us," Frank said, clapping his brother-in-law on the shoulder. "We're exhausted. We're going straight to bed when we get home. Bobby, if you feel like hanging around for a while, maybe you want to keep Rob company. If you want the real thing, I'm pretty sure I have an actual chess set in the basement. Or you could invite George Clinton over, if you want. Just keep the decibel level down on the funk music."

Bobby made a face. "You think you're pretty funny, don't ya?"

"I am now, Bobby," Frank said happily, putting his arm around Rob. "I am now." He looked at Gail. "And, you..." His throat closed. "Come here. Group hug."

Gail moved forward, and Frank hugged both her and Rob to him. "I owe you, big time," Frank said to his sister in a thick voice. He kissed her tenderly on the forehead, and then, so did Rob. Gail noticed with amazement that Frank and Rob were almost the same height now. When had that happened?

"OK, you guys had better get some rest. We'll see you soon," she said.

But Frank brought Jody into the circle, and they all shared another hug.

"You'll be fine," Gail said to her sister-in-law softly. She was being discreet, because she wasn't sure who knew, and who didn't. "Keep us posted."

"I will," Jody responded. "You're a true Angel, Gail. Thank you, from the bottom of our hearts."

Finally, Bobby led Frank and his family to the elevators. As they went, Gail could hear Rob asking Bobby why the former President of the United States would be coming to their house to play funk music, and she and Sam looked at each other, then burst out laughing.

Dean looked at Cas. "OK, let's go, your Lordship. To tell you the truth, I don't mind an escort, and I don't even mind bring on lockdown for a day or two. We didn't get a lot of sleep, either. And I think one of those Demon asshats might have grazed Baby, so I might have to do a little body work on her."

"That was the real reason he sped away so fast," Sam joked. "He didn't care if there were any bullets in me, he just didn't want any in the car."

Dean smirked. "It was pretty funny when I spun out and gave them all a mud bath, though. I could see them in the rearview mirror. It's too bad we couldn't have gotten a video of that, and put it on YouTube."

"Do you really believe Crowley, or were you just telling Frank that to calm him down?" Sam asked Cas.

Cas was thoughtful. "I'm inclined to believe him, Sam. Let's go. Gail and I will take you home, and I will be in touch, as soon as I have ascertained what is going on."

The four of them walked towards the elevator. Gail glanced back for a minute. They would likely be back here very soon, holding another vigil for Jody. She sighed. When would enough be enough? She took Cas's hand.

VIGNETTE - LOVE DON'T LIVE HERE ANY MORE

Cas and Gail were lying in bed together in their suite in Heaven. As soon as they'd returned from the bunker, she had burst into tears. It had been a very stressful couple of days, but she had been trying to hold it in as much as possible. All Frank and Jody would have needed was her, hanging around long-faced, bawling her eyes out. Besides, her primary emotion following the attack had been anger. It was like that old cliche about couples starting to behave like each other, the longer they had been together. Gail had figured that she and Cas could bond together over their rage. But a funny thing had happened: Cas was way calmer than she had expected him to be. In fact, he hadn't lost it once, since this whole thing had started. There was something going on with him, all right. She'd thought that maybe he knew things he hadn't wanted to disclose in front of their human family, so she hadn't pushed him. When they'd gotten here to their suite, she had planned to ask him what was REALLY going on. But when she'd opened her mouth to ask him the magic question, that was when the waterworks had come.

Cas had taken her in his arms, sitting her down on the living room couch. He'd held her for as long as she'd needed, comforting her. And then, being who they were, one thing had led to another. He had started to kiss her, she had kissed him back, and they had taken comfort from each other. Then there had been a trail of clothes shed, leading into the bedroom, which was where they were now.

They had made love once, and it had been a quick, passionate encounter. Gail was laying with her head on her husband's chest, catching her breath. Then she looked up at his face, and she smiled. There was an errant lock of hair that had fallen across his forehead. She reached up to sweep it away from his face, and he grabbed her hand at the wrist. She was momentarily surprised, but his grip was gentle. He started to kiss her fingers, and then he licked her knuckle, and she relaxed.

Cas had panicked there, for a moment. He had seen her move her hand towards his forehead, and he had been frightened, thinking that she was looking to search his mind. So he had grabbed her hand. But then, he saw the look of surprise on her face, so he had improvised. Cas had never had a problem making love to any part of his wife. Then he leaned down to kiss her on the mouth, using his tongue, and she touched him. And then he was on top of her, making love to her again. She wrapped her legs around him and he pushed harder into her, watching her face. When he knew that she was close, he leaned down to kiss her again, and she reached up to touch his face. Now he was paranoid again, although he really shouldn't have been. She always touched his face. It was because he had a guilty conscience. Still, he grabbed her hands and held them away from him again.

"I love you, my darling," he told her, because it was true, but he also said it to distract her from his reaction. Then he pushed forward again, hard, and when she told him that she loved him too, he was finally able to finish.

Gail's wind was definitely up, now. Truthfully, she had only been looking to show him her affection by touching his face, as she so frequently did. But clearly, he thought she was attempting to search his mind. Fine, then. If he wasn't willing to tell her what he was thinking about, she was damn well going to find out, anyway.

Cas could tell that Gail was not yet satisfied. He moved down her body and lifted her hips, licking her between her legs. She began to make her sounds, so he pulled her closer. He could feel her hands in his hair as she began to cry out. He smiled, and -

\- There was a bright white flash, and Gail shielded her eyes. It dissipated after a moment, and she looked around. She was standing in their bedroom at their house on Earth. She could see Ralph on the nightstand, leaning against the lamp. Had Cas winked her here, all of a sudden? But if so, where was he?

She took a moment to look around the room. What had just happened? One minute, they had been making love in Heaven, and then, she had found herself here. She had been holding on to his head, messing up his hair as the good feeling was coming upon her, and -

Gail smiled. Cas had been looking to distract her, and ultimately, she had succeeded in distracting him. She walked out of the bedroom and down the hallway. She and Cas had visited their past together in each other's minds before, but this was a first for her. Now, she was in the house of Cas's mind.

She'd had similar experiences with Metatron, when he had invited her and Cas to search his mind as proof that the Demon era had just been an illusion. Then, she had visited Gabriel's house briefly, by herself. But this was her first time visiting her husband's house, and she was excited, but she was also a little bit scared.

There were many wonderful rooms all the way down the hallway, and she was tempted to linger at many of them. All of the doors were open, so she didn't feel as if she was being nosy. But she didn't know what he could possibly want to hide here, anyway. From everything she was seeing, she was in a house full of love. Everywhere she looked, she and Cas were showing their love for each other in a multitude of different ways. Hugging and kissing, cuddling and watching TV, and making love. She smiled as she went from room to room. This would be a house of horrors for their friends, Gail thought with amusement; Dean and Frank, in particular. They were always complaining about the Angels' tendency to be demonstrative with their affection for each other. But seeing all of this activity featured so predominantly in Cas's mind made her feel warm and happy.

Oh, look. Here was the Las Vegas wing of the house. Here they were, hand in hand on their bench in the Secret Garden, enjoying the early-morning serenity of the place. Walking down the Strip at night, marveling at all the neon lights. Gail, sitting in a booth in a cozy little bar and Cas, bringing her a drink and sliding in beside her, instead of across from her. Another one of Dean's pet peeves. But it made Cas happy to sit that way with his wife. He liked to be in close proximity to Gail. Wasn't that the way that married people were supposed to be with each other? Gail laughed. She could just picture Dean's face right now. But, too bad for him. Gail liked it, too.

In other rooms, she and Cas were hanging out with their family and friends, teasing and bantering back and forth, but always holding hands, or cuddling. They were on the couch at their house or in the bunker, watching movies, cuddled together under a blanket. They were at the ballpark with the baseball caps Frank had bought them on their heads, rooting for the Blue Jays, or the Angels. Cas usually just rooted for a good game. Every time he watched, he saw something he'd never seen before, and that intrigued him. There was so much strategy to the game. It was wonderful.

Further down the hall, Cas was reading to Gail as she lay on the couch with her feet in his lap. Then, after a time, Cas would put the book down and then he would take the socks off of her feet and start to massage them, as she moaned softly.

Even further down the hall was the winter wing, where she saw the one perfect Christmas they'd had with their extended family, right before the year of the death squads. She watched them all making their snowmen, having the snowball fight, and laughing. There was so much laughter. Then, there was another winter scene, with her and Cas laying down in the snow together, making snow angels. She didn't remember - Wait. Wait just a minute. She watched as she and Cas kissed and canoodled in the snow. Then Mind Cas said that they should dry off, and so Gail followed herself and Cas back to their first house and watched as they took off their wet clothes and made love. Then, they drove their car to the diner and got hot turkey sandwiches and pie, and brought the food to the bunker for a small celebration with Sam and Dean. The brothers said that Frank had called, sending his regrets. Monsters didn't know anything about Christmas, and they didn't care. But he would be home soon, and they would have another celebration then.

Gail suddenly realized what she was seeing. This was the way that their Christmas had actually gone the year they thought that Cas had been a Demon who had treated Gail so horribly. She started to cry happy tears. Obviously, Cas had remembered this recently. She wished he would have shared this with her. But, to be fair, there had been an awful lot of stuff going on.

The next, furthest wing of the house seemed to be reserved for the distant past. Cas was sitting under a tree in the meadow, tending to his flock. He was smiling, daydreaming about the day he would meet his beloved. The Father had come to Abel in a vision and told Abel that He was going to bless him with a wife. Of course, God had never mentioned the fact that this wasn't going to happen for thousands of years. Mere details, when you were dealing with the Lord God.

But it had finally happened, although to say that it was a gradual process was a supreme understatement. Gail then peeked into their cottage in New England and saw John down on his knees in front of her by the fireplace, on the last happy night that she and Cas had had there. The next room was Guinevere's bedchamber at the castle, and she and Lance were making love, just before Arthur discovered them. They had loved each other since the dawn of time, but the Father had certainly put them through their paces before He had allowed them to be together, hadn't He?

There were even more rooms further down the hall, but Gail could visit those another time. She was growing extremely curious now. Where was Cas? Why wasn't he here, sharing all this stuff with her?

With a great effort, Gail turned her back on all the love and happiness she was seeing and backtracked down the hall. Eventually, the light in the corridor grew dim. She saw a door up ahead that she took to be the front door of the house, so she opened it and walked outside.

The door slammed shut behind her, and the light was extinguished. It was dark outside, and it took her eyes a moment to adjust. Then, she saw him. He was sitting on a bench up ahead. His head was bowed. As she approached, Cas put his head in his hands.

"What's going on with you?" she asked him, puzzled. "What's wrong? Why are you out here all alone, in the dark?"

"It's where I deserve to be," Cas said, anguished. He looked up at her, and she was astonished to see that his face was wet with tears.

"What aren't you telling me, Cas?" Gail asked him. The dread was building up in her now. This was going to be bad.

"I have to show you something, but I don't want to," Cas said softly. "I live for your good opinion of me." He sighed. "Please come here." He extended his hand to her. She moved forward and took it, and suddenly, they were standing on a battlefield. Angel versus Angel clashing, fighting with their blades held high. Rivers of blood on the ground.

Gail was horrified. "What you are seeing now is the final, all-out skirmish," Cas told her. "After this, I decided that there had been enough of my garrison sacrificed. Even now, Jason and I are strategizing."

She looked at her husband in surprise. Jason? Then, she remembered that he had told her that she and Jason had been compatriots, back in the day. They had become such bitter enemies by the time Gail had come along that it was easy to forget that fact.

Cas winked her into a tent that was set up on the hillside, overlooking the battlefield. He and Jason were there, looking at a map that was spread across a table.

"I think I'm going to use the King's Gambit," Cas was saying to Jason. "Raphael won't be expecting that."

"Is that what I think it is?" Jason asked, smiling slowly. "That's when you offer up some lesser pieces to divert your opponent, right?"

Cas frowned. "Yes. The downside to that is that it weakens our position. But if I sacrifice a couple of units here - " he pointed - "then I think we can use the English Opening, and approach his battalion from the flank side. By the time he figures out what we've done, I think we can achieve full penetration."

Jason's smile widened. "You're a diabolical son of a bitch, Castiel."

"I'm simply trying to shorten the war," Cas said tersely, rolling up the map.

Suddenly, Gail and Cas were standing in an office. Cas and Jason were there together again, standing over a female who was sitting in a chair, crying.

"Your son died an honourable death," Cas was saying stiffly.

"I believe you, Castiel," the woman wailed, "but Finn was the only family I had left."

"We are sorry for your loss," Cas said dispassionately.

Jason escorted the woman out of the office. The instant he had closed the door behind her, he rolled his eyes. "We're sorry your son's death was completely pointless," Jason said sarcastically. "And who names their son 'Finn', anyway? What was he, a fish?"

"He was named after his father, who was called Finnegan," Cas said absently, shuffling some paperwork on his desk. "The father died a number of years ago."

"Well, look at you, caring about your men," Jason said cheerfully. He plunked down into the chair that the unfortunate young Angel's mother had just vacated, putting his feet up on Castiel's desk.

Cas frowned. "I didn't say I cared," he stated in a monotone. "I was merely answering your question. Perhaps if you spent less effort being sarcastic and more time developing strategy, we might actually be getting somewhere."

Jason sat up, taking his blade out of his jacket. "Oh, I have a few ideas on strategy, all right. But so far, you've been resistant."

Cas sighed, frowning again. "It would appear that I need to rethink my position, then. Raphael's forces are pushing back, and we're teetering on the brink. Do what you have to do, and I'll do what I have to do."

"Excellent," Jason said with a tone of savage glee. He bounced up out of his chair and left Castiel's office, twirling his blade in his hand.

Gail looked at her husband for a moment. She didn't understand why he was showing her this now. He had alluded to his acts of cruelty during the Angel Wars, and certain things had been hinted at during the tribunal. But he was a new man now, a better one, and she wasn't really in any position to judge, because she hadn't been part of his life back then. As near as Gail had been given to understand, God had left the Angels to their own devices, and then, the battle lines had been drawn. Castiel had been pitted against Raphael, an Archangel who had wanted to bring about the Apocalypse on Earth. Cas and Bobby and the Winchesters had eventually teamed up to stop the Apocalypse, and Cas had killed Raphael. So, even though she was appalled at the sight of Angel bloodshed, and Jason and Cas colluding, she was prepared to give her husband the benefit of the doubt.

Especially considering what she saw next. After Jason left his office, Castiel sat down heavily at his desk. "You see the kind of monster I am," Cas said miserably, but Gail said, "Look at your face, Cas."

The bloodthirsty General Castiel was looking utterly lost and miserable. "Look at yourself, Cas," Gail repeated. "You're miserable. That's not you. THIS is you." She touched his face, which was wet with tears again.

"Don't be so sure," Cas told her. The office disappeared, and then they were in another room, where Cas was standing, talking to a Demon.

"So, we are understood. No one is to be hurt. Your operative will merely threaten them with the gun. Nothing more," Cas was instructing the Demon.

"That's right, Castiel," Rudy said, nodding. "She will tell them that Crowley is declaring the Holy War, and wave the gun around menacingly. Then, when your wife reports the incident back to you, you will have your excuse. Not that you need one, my Lord," he added quickly.

"I told you not to call me that," Cas said angrily. "Now, get out of my sight. It's hard enough to distinguish you from the other vermin in this building."

Rudy fixed him with a baleful glare, but then he popped out, and Cas stared after him for a moment. "It's the only way," he said aloud. Then he disappeared, too.

Gail looked at Cas, open-mouthed. For a moment, she was literally speechless, rooted to the spot in shock. Cas looked at her, miserable, waiting for her to speak.

"It was YOU?" she said at last. "YOU sent that Demon to shoot us?"

"No," he said weakly. "It was just supposed to be a threat."

"Oh. Well, that makes it all right, then," she said, her voice heavy with sarcasm. Then she lashed out, slapping him across the face as hard as she could. "Rob almost died! What the hell is wrong with you? How dare you! We're not pawns in whatever sick little chess game you think you're playing with Crowley!"

Cas's head had rocked back when she'd hit him, but of course, they were both only in his mind's eye. It wasn't real, she thought. So she took her hands off his head and sat up in bed, swinging her legs over to the side. Cas reached for her, but she scrambled off the bed and over to the dresser. She yanked the top drawer open, so hard that it came off its moorings and fell to the floor. That gave Cas time to cross the room, and he tried to reach for her again, but she put her hand up, and he stopped short.

"Get away from me," she said angrily. She turned back to the bureau, pulling another drawer open. What was she looking for? Clothes of any kind, just enough to cover herself so she could get the hell away from him. She was so angry at the moment she couldn't even see straight. Rob had nearly died. What the hell did Cas think he was trying to pull?

Cas waved his hand, and they were both fully dressed. "Please, I need to talk to you," he said to her. "I need help, Gail. I have a disease."

She laughed scornfully. "Oh. You have a disease. Well, that's OK, then. We'll just tell Frank that his son almost died because you have a disease."

He seized her by the arms, and she looked down at his hands. "Really? What are you going to do, Cas? Keep me here against my will?"

"No," he said. He was desperate now. If he let her leave now, without showing her everything, she might leave for good. He grabbed her hand. "I need to show you, Gail. Please. Please."

He slapped her hand onto his forehead, and they were in his mind again. This time, they were in the corridor of Heaven's jail. She was trying to pull away from him, but he had his hand around her wrist. She was tugging with all her might, but somehow he was holding her there, even though she couldn't feel his hand restraining her.

"I'm sorry, my love," Cas pleaded, "but you need to see the truth. Then, if you want to strike me, or even if you want to leave me, I will not hold you back."

Gail let out a frustrated breath. There was no point in struggling, she supposed. Even in his mind, he apparently had Godly powers. Fine. Whatever. She would watch his little show. Then, when it was over, she would smack him twice, and this time, it would be in the real world, so he would feel it.

A man came down the corridor carrying an empty syringe. Suddenly, Patricia appeared. Cas and Gail followed her to Cas's cell. Patricia waved her hand over the door, and it swung open. They followed her inside.

"How are you, Castiel?" Patricia asked the man who was chained to the wall. He was curled up in a ball on the floor.

Gail was still angry at her husband, but her heart broke too, at the sight of him like this. She looked at the present-day version of him, pursing her lips tightly.

"I didn't bring you here so that you could feel sorry for me," Cas said quietly. "I brought you here so that you could see."

Patricia hadn't received an answer from Castiel, but then again, she hadn't really expected one. She snapped her fingers, and a chair appeared in the middle of the cell. She sat down on it. "Look at me," she said to the man on the floor.

He raised his head, squinting, even though there was very little light. Patricia examined his face closely. She saw no defiance there, so she spoke again. "What is your mission, Castiel?"

"To wage the Holy War," he replied tonelessly.

"When will you abandon that mission?" she asked him.

"Never," he answered firmly. "Not until the last force of Evil is dead. I will start with the Demons, and then, I will kill the King of Hell himself. Then, I will vanquish the heathens and the sinners who roam upon the Earth."

"Even if it turns out that those sinners are from your own Earthly family?" Patricia persisted.

"Sometimes, in wartime, sacrifices have to be made," Castiel said automatically.

"Even if you have to sacrifice your own wife?"

"I will make sure she does not Sin," Castiel said quickly, and now, there was a tone of unease in his voice.

Patricia stood from her chair and strode over to the prisoner. She grabbed his head by the hair. "Your wife is a harlot," she said harshly. "I will ask you again: Will you do your Godly duty, once you are in the Office?"

"Yes," he responded.

Suddenly, present-day Cas and Gail were standing out in the corridor, just outside Castiel's cell door. Patricia was talking to a man who Gail had never seen before.

"He will be consumed by his obsession for the Holy War," the man was saying, "and it will not go away until he can come to terms with his guilt over the first genocide that he was responsible for."

"I would be the last person to want to defend Castiel, but that was an accident," Patricia remarked.

The man shook his head. "That doesn't matter. Deep down, he feels extreme guilt about it. So, until he can expunge that guilt, he will feel a constant craving to atone. If the obsession rages on unchecked, he will not rest until he has stamped out every bit of perceived Evil, no matter where it might be, or in what form."

Patricia smiled, and Gail's slapping hand was itching fiercely again. This was unbelievable. So all this time, it had been Patricia who had been the architect of Cas's desire to wage a Holy War. When he had gone on that desert retreat of his and come back spouting off about love being his mission, he had been lying his Godly face off.

"Take me back," Gail said, tight-lipped, and Cas let go of her wrist immediately. They were back in the bedroom of their suite in Heaven. Gail turned her back on her husband, walking out to the living room. She sank down on the couch.

Cas followed her, moving slowly, tentatively. "I suppose you'll be wanting a divorce now," he said dully.

Gail sighed heavily. "No, Cas. I don't want a divorce," she replied. "You were right; you have a disease. If I didn't try to help cure you, I would be just as responsible for anything bad that happened."

Cas couldn't believe it. She was the sweetest, most supportive...He started to cry, and Gail sighed again. "Please don't do that," she said, pursing her lips. "I'm still really mad at you, you know. I don't care if you ARE God, I wouldn't come within slapping distance of me right now, if I were you."

But he couldn't help himself, of course. He rushed forward, sitting beside her on the couch. "Go ahead and strike me, if you wish," he said to her. "I certainly deserve it."

"You take all the fun out of it when you do that," she grumbled. Then she sighed again. She must be approaching some kind of record for sighing, by now. "I expect you to nominate me for Sainthood after this." Then she looked at him. "But you have to promise me something: no more underhanded schemes. I'm going to stick to you like glue. And if you pull anything else, anything at all, I'll pack my bags, Cas. I'm not joking, and I'm not bluffing. Are we clear on that?"

"Crystal," Cas said tersely, like the soldier he had once been. Then he was the one to sigh. "I've learned my lesson, Gail. Had Rob died, I would have, too. I couldn't stand it if anything happened to any of you. Please, help me."

"All right, Cas. OK," she said softly.

"Do you promise you won't divorce me?" he asked her anxiously.

"No," she said shortly, and his face fell, so she sighed again. "Yes," she amended in a resigned tone. "If Frank isn't going to divorce Jody for having cancer, I guess I can't divorce you for having...whatever it is that Patricia gave you."

"What?!" Cas exclaimed, startled. "Jody has cancer?"

Crap. He hadn't known. It had just slipped out. Oh, well. Maybe if he hadn't been sneaking around behind her back, plotting with skeevy-looking Demons, he wouldn't be so out of the loop. But right now, she'd better check her attitude. It wasn't going to do anyone any good. She would wait until they got Cas cured, and THEN she would kill him.

"One problem at a time," Gail told him, willing herself not to sigh yet again. "One problem at a time."


	2. The Secrets That She Keeps

Chapter 2 - The Secrets That She Keeps

The first thing they'd needed to do was to locate Patricia. Because she had committed suicide, she would be in a holding area in the Garden, waiting to be brought in front of the newly-formed Suicide Board. Well, this would be one hell of a test case, Gail thought.

But there was one problem, right off the bat. Chuck had asked for and received Cas's permission to go to the movie set in Madagascar, so he was not around to sit on the committee. Gail had been poised to take his place, but she told Bobby, Laurel and Kevin that she had better recuse herself from being one of the people who decided Patricia's fate.

"It wouldn't be right," she'd told the others. "For obvious reasons, I have some pretty strong feelings about her. As it is, I'm hoping you guys can try to remain as impartial as possible. But I'm not going to rehaul the committee just for her, either. She's not going to profit from her own wrongdoing."

"Who's going to replace you, then?" Kevin wanted to know.

"Meet Henri, everyone," Gail said, introducing their Parisian friend to the others. "He doesn't know Patricia, and he's an honourable man. He agreed to come over from the main board just for this hearing. Cas is going to take Henri's place there, just for a couple of days. We agreed it was probably best if he didn't come to Patricia's hearing, for several reasons." Yeah, Gail thought. Like the fact that Cas might just stand up and smite the hell out of Patricia, the instant he saw her. And Gail really wouldn't be able to blame her husband if he did. Every time Gail thought they were scraping the bottom of the barrel when it came to Patricia, it seemed that there was another, even more disgusting layer yet to be uncovered. At least individuals like Lucifer and Crowley were upfront about their evil. But Patricia's brainwashing of Cas had been diabolical and insidious, with long-term and far-reaching consequences. It was one thing for Patricia to have a beef with Cas and Gail, although Gail still didn't really understand what that beef was. But young Rob had almost died as a result of her machinations, and that was unacceptable, as far as Gail was concerned.

Once Cas had located Patricia in the holding area of the Garden, he had dispatched Bobby to retrieve her. Their friend had complied, although he had been tight-lipped with anger when he had confronted her. Bobby saw Gail's point about not re-seating the whole committee, but it was going to be hard for him not to let his feelings show. He was determined to give Patricia a fair shake, though. As the elder statesman of the group, he had to set a good example. Bobby had thought that Gail had set up the committee brilliantly. If they were a jury on Earth, they would be every defendant's dream. One older, white Southern man. One older black man who, though Cas and Gail had met him in Paris, was actually Canadian. Then, to round off the diversity, one youngish woman, and one young Asian man. It didn't get any more diverse than that.

They were all sitting at a long table at the side of the room when Patricia was brought in. Of necessity, the room was set up sort of like a trial room, but Gail hadn't wanted the person being brought before the board to feel as if they were on trial. So there was a comfortable chair beside the committee table where the person they were deliberating about would sit, as if they were just colleagues, sitting around talking. There was a small section where observers could sit, but Gail had wanted to avoid sensationalism; so, depending on who the subject was, only those Angels who had a direct interest in that particular case would be allowed to sit and observe.

Gail was sitting in that section now. Just because she wasn't going to sit on the committee that decided Patricia's fate didn't mean that she didn't have a prevailing interest in the proceeding. She had vowed to herself that she would sit here quietly and listen to whatever lame, b.s. excuse Patricia might have for her behaviour, and for her entire, miserable existence. And then, Gail would have her say.

Once Cas had showed his wife the entire truth about his condition and Patricia's plot, Gail told Cas that she was bound and determined to get the woman to confess to what she had done, in front of witnesses. Gail also wanted to find out what the supposed genocide was that Patricia and that man had been talking about. But Cas had stated miserably that there had been so many, during the days of the Angel Wars, that it would be impossible for him to narrow it down. He regretted them all, he'd told her. But it was puzzling to Cas that Patricia would have described this particular incident as "accidental". As much as it pained him to admit, all of the killings that he had been responsible for, either directly or indirectly, had been deliberate.

So, Gail was determined to get to the bottom of things. They had to get Cas cured, right now. He had everyone in their family on lockdown, but that was hardly a satisfactory solution. They still didn't know from where the threat was originating. However, as long as the party behind it wasn't Crowley, as the King was of course alleging, and as long as the mystery mastermind continued to try to provoke the Holy War, they'd better get Cas cured. If he had done something as desperately underhanded as to strike up that bargain with Rudy, who knew what he would be capable of next? He had promised Gail that he would remain in Heaven, but Cas had also confessed that he wasn't sure he was capable of keeping his promise for very long. Obsessions were unhealthy things, and he had a disease. Well, great. Just great.

As Patricia was led into the room, her eyes fell on the committee. Bobby, Laurel, young Kevin, and an older black man, who she didn't know. Her first emotion was one of relief. No Castiel, and no Gail. Good.

But then, as Patricia sat in the chair to which she had been directed, she noticed Gail, sitting in the front row, nearest to the table. Patricia looked at Bobby, who surveyed her coolly. "She's entitled to be here to hear what you have to say, Patricia," Bobby advised the subject.

"What makes you think I have anything to say?" Patricia asked him.

"You can suit yourself, but seeing as this board is here to decide the disposition of your soul, I'd be talking, if I were you," Bobby told her.

"What is it that you expect me to say, Bobby?" Patricia retorted. "And, in any case, why should I say it in front of HER?" She nodded her head in Gail's direction.

Gail was seething. "Oh, I know you're not taking that attitude with me," she said to Patricia. "I'm extremely interested in anything you might have to say for yourself, especially if it's about how you drugged and brainwashed my husband."

Patricia looked at her with disdain. "This whole exercise is pointless," she sneered. "Any kind of so-called 'hearing' I may get here won't be a fair one, anyway."

"It'll be the fairest one you could ever have in Heaven," Bobby said, with a note of irritation in his voice. "Gail recused herself from the committee and asked Henri here to take her place, to assure you of impartiality."

"So what are you looking for, Bobby? Are you expecting me to sit here and weep and wail? Gnash my teeth? Tell you how sorry I am for the steps my administration took to keep all of you safe? If so, you'll be waiting quite a while." Patricia sat back in her chair and glared at them all defiantly.

"Do you realize that if you don't have any mitigating circumstances to offer, we'll have no choice but to send your soul to Hell?" Kevin said quietly. He couldn't conceive of anybody just sitting there and letting them send them to Hell. He would be begging and pleading, trying to use all of his wits just to stay out of the place.

Patricia eyed the young Angel. "How old were you when you died, Kevin? Eighteen? How could you possibly understand the experiences I've had? Neither you, nor Bobby, nor this other man could possibly understand. Laurel might, at least, intellectually. Even Gail might have, although when it comes to me, I know she couldn't possibly be impartial."

Oh, here we go with the big sob story, Gail thought, willing herself not to roll her eyes. Maybe Patricia was right; maybe none of them here could relate to whatever sad little things had happened to Patricia during her years of existence. Well, she should try Gail's life sometime.

"Contrary to what you might think, Patricia, I'm not here to stick it to you. Even though you did everything you could to stick it to me and Cas, during your so-called 'administration'," Gail said sarcastically.

Bobby rapped his gavel once, sharply. "OK, Gail. I understand how you feel, but you put me in charge of this committee, and I need order," he told her.

She sat back in her chair, closing her mouth with a snap. As mad as Gail was, she realized that Bobby was right. Gail was supposed to be an observer, only. Antagonizing Patricia further wasn't going to accomplish anything.

Patricia looked at them all, considering. She really didn't want to go to Hell. It was funny, really; committing suicide had given her a lot of clarity of mind that she hadn't had when she had been God. There was something about the power of the Office that made an individual a little bit megalomaniacal to begin with. She wondered how Castiel was coping, and if the fact that he wasn't here was significant.

Just as Patricia was opening her mouth to speak, the door to the hearing room opened. "I have something to say," Pamela announced.

Everyone turned to look at the door. Pamela walked into the room, and Cas was right behind her.

Pamela walked up to the committee table as Cas slid into the chair beside Gail. She looked at him inquiringly, and he gave her a half-shrug.

"I need to speak to you, before you make your decision," Pamela said to the committee. "I need to tell you how evil this woman really is."

"She came to the boardroom," Cas told Gail softly. "She said she'd heard that Patricia was undergoing her hearing today, and she wanted to help."

Gail eyed Pamela warily. Ever since the run-ins Gail had had with that girl at the Academy, every time she saw Pamela, Gail automatically had her back up. Apparently, Pamela had been behaving herself ever since she had recovered from her concussion and become a faculty member in one of Cas's Academies. But Gail would never quite be able to trust her. Still, based on what the girl was saying now, Gail had no problem with Pamela's desire to speak up against Patricia.

Neither did Bobby. He invited Pamela to take a seat and speak her piece, and Cas waved his hand absently, providing Pamela with a chair.

Patricia glared at Pamela as the girl told the committee all about the way that Patricia had recruited her and her brother Scott to mess with Castiel and Gail during the campaign. "I humbly apologize for my part in the whole scheme," Pamela said to the committee. "I have already apologized to Castiel and Gail. But I wanted to let you know that Patricia's plot against the two of them was premeditated, and it goes back quite a ways. I regret my part in it."

Gail looked sharply at Pamela. She didn't want to interrupt the proceeding again so soon after Bobby had had to admonish her earlier, but: Pamela had never apologized to Gail. Never.

Gail glanced at her husband's face. Cas was sitting stiffly upright in his chair, and he was staring at Patricia now. For her part, Patricia was looking everywhere else in the room she could possibly look, avoiding his gaze.

"How do you feel about Castiel having killed your brother?" Laurel asked Pamela curiously.

Pamela shrugged. "He did what he had to do. Scott and I were never that close, anyway."

"You're a liar!" Patricia shouted at Pamela. "You told me that, if I didn't punish Castiel, you were going to seek your own revenge against him!"

"You can see how unbalanced she is," Pamela remarked calmly. "I never said any such thing."

Patricia rose from her seat and made a move towards Pamela, but Cas raised his hand, then lowered it, and Patricia sank back down into her chair. "She did!" Patricia said loudly. "And now, here she is, seeking to crucify me. She and that brother of hers were far more evil than she accuses me of being. They were looking to Sin. Eager to, even. At least I had an excuse for what I did."

"Oh? And what would that be?" Pamela snapped at her. "To keep Heaven safe from Castiel? Please. Give me a break. Nobody believes that, Patricia. He's God now, and as you can see, Heaven is still standing."

"For now," Patricia said coolly, a strange little smile on her face.

Gail's blood was starting to boil again, but before she could say anything, Henri spoke up: "Excuse me, may I ask a question?"

"Go ahead, Henry," Bobby said.

"Ma'am? Patricia, is it?" Henri said to her. "Did I hear you correctly to say that you had a reason to do what you did? Or an 'excuse', was the way you put it, I believe. I would very much like to hear what that was."

Bobby looked at him, nodding approvingly. Way to go, Henry, he thought. He'd been able to cut through all the courtroom drama crapola and pick out the one thing the rest of them had almost missed.

Patricia stared at all of their faces, and then she looked at Henri. Maybe, because the two of them didn't know each other, just maybe he would understand. "I was violated," she said quietly.

Because Patricia had spoken so softly, Pamela had been the only one to hear the older woman. "Yeah, right," Pamela scoffed. "Whatever, Patricia."

Patricia looked at the young Angel scornfully. How could a girl like Pamela ever understand where Patricia was coming from? "If SHE is escorted out of the room, I will tell you my story," Patricia said to Bobby.

Pamela looked at Cas, but he rose from his chair, walking over to where she sat. "You are excused," he said, touching the young Angel's arm. She vanished. Then he looked at Patricia, trying to hold onto his temper. "You may speak," he told her. "But, know this: as you were always so eager to remind me on your regular visits to my prison cell, you are not God, I am. That means that, at the conclusion of your testimony, the committee will vote to decide your fate. But I have the authority to override their decision, should I so choose. Proceed."

He walked back to his chair beside Gail and sat down, leaning back in his chair. Cas highly doubted that there was anything that Patricia could say that would mitigate what she had done to him, but he wanted to be sure to bend over backwards to give her her say, first. Which was more than anyone had ever done for him here in Heaven.

Patricia was silent. Castiel was going to cast her down to eternal torment. She was sure of it. And why wouldn't he? She would have done the same thing, in his position. But, she had no choice but to speak her piece now. If she did not, she would have thrown away her last chance to make them understand.

"The day that Lucifer came to the High Office in Heaven, I was there with Bobby," Patricia began. "We were looking over the statistics for that quarter. Do you remember, Bobby?"

He nodded. Of course he did. You could never forget a thing like that. The Devil had just waltzed into the Office as though he belonged there, turned Bobby human again, and then taken over. He had given Bobby the push to Earth, where Bobby had ended up banging on the bunker door for Dean to let him in.

"Well, after he sent you to Earth, he looked me up and down, saying all kinds of filthy and disgusting things about what he was going to do to me," Patricia continued, her face screwing up into an expression of distaste. "So I raised my arm to slap him across the face, and he grabbed my arm and laughed. It was the most horrible sound I've ever heard. He said to go ahead and hit him; that he would enjoy it more that way."

Gail was willing herself not to roll her eyes. That had been Lucifer's M.O., all right. He'd been that same way with Gail. Blah, blah, blah. Ooooh, I'm Satan, and I'm scary.

"And then he raped me," Patricia said bluntly.

Gail nearly fell off her chair in shock. "WHAT?!" she exclaimed.

Patricia was tight-lipped. "You heard me. He tore at my clothes and then he violated me, right there in the High Office. I struggled and screamed for help, and the whole time, he was laughing that horrible laugh of his."

"I didn't hear anything," Laurel blurted out. Bobby looked at Laurel. That was right, too; as Bobby's receptionist, Laurel would have been sitting right outside the office.

"That's because he waved his hand towards the door and said that was to muffle the sound," Patricia said bitterly. "He said he didn't want my cries of pleasure to be heard. Of pleasure! Can you imagine? I was crying, all right. I was screaming and sobbing, begging for him to stop. Praying for deliverance. And, you know what I got? Nothing. Total silence. So then I called out to you, Castiel, to please, please come and help me. Make it stop. And all the while, he kept on laughing. Telling me I didn't look happy enough. So then he spun me around and bent me over Father's desk. He said he didn't want to look at my face any more, but that it felt too good to stop. And then came the most horrible, painful violation yet. I screamed at the top of my lungs for you to come, Castiel. But I got no response, because you and that whore you're married to only care about yourselves! No one else!"

Patricia started to cry, hot, angry tears. She'd told herself she wasn't going to weep in front of them, but it looked like she was doing it, anyway. "And then, just when I thought there could be no further degradation, he spun me around again, forced me to my knees, and..." Patricia's voice cracked, and then her throat closed. But she didn't need to continue. Everyone in the room knew what she was talking about, even Kevin, who had never even done any of the things that she had been referring to here. He felt sick to his stomach now, as they all did.

"Why didn't you say anything, Pat?" Bobby asked her in a hushed, shocked tone.

"Because she didn't want people to say that she was loose," Laurel said softly. "Because she didn't want them to say she had asked for it."

"Laurel - " Bobby started to say, but Gail said, "No, Bobby. Laurel is right. That's what a lot of them would have said, and not only the men, either." She looked at Patricia, and for the first time, Gail felt compassion for the woman. "You were embarrassed, and ashamed. Like it was somehow your fault. You felt like, if you could just straighten up your clothes and hold your head high, nobody would ever know."

"So you DO understand," Patricia said quietly.

Gail was thinking of the period of time when she'd thought that she was in an abusive relationship with Cas. How she'd felt in her mind about the whole thing. If she stayed with him, wasn't she just asking for it, on some level? That's what people would say. That's what Gail herself used to say when she watched those Lifetime movies. The situations were different, yet, they were oddly similar, too. Abuse was abuse, and violation was violation. No meant no; or at least, it was supposed to. Yet many times, it was the woman who felt the shame after the incident, not the man. Why was that? Why the hell WAS that?

"I'm sorry we weren't there for you, Patricia," Gail told the woman. Whatever else had happened subsequent to that day, she felt as if she owed Patricia that much. Woman to woman.

"That's all I wanted," Patricia said in a trembling voice. "That's all I ever wanted to hear from the two of you."

Cas had no idea what to say here, or what to do. There were so many emotions doing battle inside him right now that he wondered how he could possibly hold them all. He tried to put himself in Patricia's place, but he was having a hard time doing that. Why had she not fought Lucifer, tooth and nail? Used whatever was at hand to wound him? No, that wasn't fair. Castiel was thinking like himself, thinking about what HE would have done. But he wasn't Patricia, and Patricia wasn't him. Cas looked at Gail now. He was thinking of their Demon delusions now, too. When they thought that he had held Gail down and injected her with his diseased blood against her will, just so they could be diseased together. The times that he had wanted to have sex, and she had been bruised and hurt. But he had proceeded anyway, hadn't he? But, wait. He was doing it again. None of that had actually ever happened, although sometimes, it still felt so real. But the mindset was the same, wasn't it, and perhaps that was the lesson. If Cas was capable of feeling badly for Gail in that type of imaginary scenario, should he not feel badly for Patricia, also?

But then if he did, then what? Was Cas responsible for the actions of each and every member of his gender? He did feel guilt now, for having been unavailable when Patricia had called on him. Whatever else she had done subsequent to that fateful day, she had not deserved what had happened to her. What Lucifer had done to her. Even if Castiel had been killed, he would have fought Lucifer with everything he had that day, had he known. No woman should ever have to be subjected to what Patricia had described to them here.

It was not too difficult to surmise what had happened to Patricia after that. As a result of the trauma that she had suffered, her psyche had fractured, and as a consequence, she had been bound and determined to remove every last vestige of Sin from Heaven, either real or perceived. Much as a human woman would scrub and scrub in the shower after having been violated in that manner, Patricia had felt that if she could turn everything in Heaven pristine and white again, her soul might heal, as well. She had likewise projected her loathing for Lucifer, and for herself, onto Castiel and Gail. Cas was sure that there were many psychiatric terms for the emotions that Patricia had been feeling after what had happened to her. But the bottom line was that she had taken how she felt about it and turned it around on them, and they were still paying the price for her actions. And just how was he supposed to feel about THAT?

"I ask you for your mercy, Castiel," Patricia said in a monotone. He looked at her, speechless. His mercy? His pity, definitely. His sympathy, certainly. But, his mercy?

"Aren't you curious about how the Holy War is progressing, Patricia?" Cas asked her coolly. She looked at him sharply, but she said nothing. So he continued, "You'll be happy to know that the first shots have already been fired. In fact, my young nephew Rob was just released from the hospital, after having almost died. You remember him, do you not, Patricia? The child at Frank and Jody's wedding, and at ours? He's growing up very quickly now, but he should still have his whole life ahead of him. A life that he almost did not get to live, because of your brainwashing of me while you were holding me in prison. I feel sympathy for what happened to you, and I regret that I was not available to help you when you called on me that day. But what you did to me and Gail and to my family by extension was wrong, Patricia. I am sorry that there is nothing I can do to erase what happened to you on that day. But there IS a way that you can reverse what you did to me. If you want me to show you mercy, Patricia, then I need you to show ME mercy, now."

Patricia was silent for a moment. Then she took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "I suppose that you are right, Castiel. I need to unburden myself. All right; I confess. I confess to everything. I had Dr. Roarke inject you with a drug that he said had worked on his most violent patients on Earth, and when I noticed the effect that it was having on you, I used the opportunity to instill an obsession for the Holy War in your mind."

The Angels on the committee looked at her, astonished. Truthfully, Bobby had already had his suspicions about that, but to hear it actually stated out loud like this was still shocking.

Patricia continued: "Dr. Roarke told me that the only way your psyche would allow you to cure yourself of the obsession would be for you to come to terms with your guilt over the first genocide that you were responsible for, Castiel. Only then would your need to wage the Holy War go away."

Cas winced. It was difficult to hear her say those words out loud in connection with him. But, they had to find out. "What genocide would that be, Patricia?" he asked her reluctantly, in a subdued tone.

"Why, the very first one, of course," she replied dispassionately. "The Flood." Then she smiled that strange little smile again. "If you can somehow erase that incident from your illustrious resume, your obsession will be cured. Oh, and just so you know, when you were in prison, I nullified your marriage, Castiel. So every time that you and Gail Sin, you are doing so outside of wedlock."

Gail stood up suddenly. "Bobby, call a recess."

He looked at her blankly. "Huh?"

"A recess, Bobby. A halt to the proceedings. Just bang your gavel for a second. Please," Gail said. She grabbed Cas by the arm. "We'll be right back."

Gail popped him over to the High Office, so that they could have some privacy. "Can you believe this?" she exclaimed. "Did you see her face? She's not sorry at all! She thinks it's funny, Cas! Rob nearly died, you're supposed to pretend that the Flood never happened, and now, you and I aren't even married anymore? Give me the power back, just for five minutes. I'll smite that expression right off of her face."

Cas felt anger, too, but as he looked down at the desk, his primary emotion was that of sorrow. "He raped her here, Gail," he said softly. "Is it any wonder that she lost her mind?"

What he'd said acted like a splash of cold water in Gail's face. Now she could picture Lucifer, gleefully violating Patricia. Patricia, screaming, begging for him to stop. Calling out for Cas to please, please come and help her. A plea that Cas never heard, because they had turned off their frequencies and his cell phone. Dammit. Dammit. Why had she brought them here, of all places? Her anger leaked slowly out of her, like the air being let out of a balloon.

"One problem at a time, my love," Cas said. He opened his arms to her and held her for a moment until they both calmed down a bit, and then Cas winked them both back to the hearing room.

"Make your vote," Cas said to Bobby.

"We already have," Bobby told him. "Two for Hell, two for clemency. I hate to tell ya this, but you're the tie-breaker, Cas."

Patricia's blood ran cold. That was it. She was done. Why had she said what she had said? Because, the bottom line was, she was still extremely unbalanced, mentally. She could feel the urge coming upon her again to harm herself, even as she was sitting here, waiting to be cast down into Hell. Perhaps it was for the best. There was bound to be a lot of suffering she could do in Hell.

Cas was staring at Patricia. "Do you have anything more to say, before I pass sentence?" he said to her, with no inflection in his voice.

"I plead for mercy, Castiel," Patricia begged. "I'm mentally unbalanced. That's why I did the things that I did. That's why I said the things that I said. Please, I need help. Please. I'm very sorry for what I did to you, and to Gail, and to Bobby. If I could, I would take that pencil that Bobby is holding and cut furrows in my skin with it, like I used to do when I was in the Office. You can let Crowley know I am coming, and he can subject me to eternal torment. In a strange way, that would make me feel better."

Cas chuffed out a breath. She truly WAS mentally ill. She had to be, to say something like that. "I vote clemency," he said. "At the conclusion of this proceeding, you will accompany Bobby. He will take your Grace and hold it in a secure location here in Heaven, and then he will escort you to a mental health facility on Earth. There, you can attempt to get the help you so clearly need." He stood from his chair, taking Gail's hand. She rose with him. "I wish you good luck in the future, Patricia," Cas said with quiet dignity. Gail had seldom been prouder of him. "And as for Gail and myself, we will be just fine. We will remarry, if she will have me, and our bond will be stronger than ever. I will find a way to deal with the illness that you have given me. If I had a way to erase the mental illness that Lucifer has given to you, I would surely do that for you, as I know how unpleasant it feels." He looked down at Gail. "Have you got anything that you would like to say, my darling?"

Gail was tongue-tied. She had nothing to say. She had a lot to say. "Good luck, Patricia," she settled for, speaking softly. "I hope you get the help you need."

Then Cas winked them out of the hearing room.

An hour or so later, they were sitting in their suite in Heaven, brainstorming about how they could possibly figure out how to get Cas the closure he needed regarding the Flood. It was strange, really, but he had never thought about the Flood as a genocide before. But it had been, of course. It was easy to lose sight of that. But countless individuals had perished in that Flood. Only Noah and his family and the animals they had brought on the ark had survived; at least, in their part of the world, anyway. There had been people in other locations, of course, and eventually they had all found each other, as people will. That was how the Earth's population had been able to continue. But the fact remained that, however unintentional it may have been, the Angel Castiel's little screw-up had cost all of the people who had been in the path of that flood their lives.

So even though it had distressed the both of them to discover that they were apparently no longer married, that issue would have to wait. The priority now was to rid Cas of his obsession, before any more damage was done.

"Wait a minute," Gail said to Cas now. "I just thought of something. When you were on your desert retreat, I needed something to do. So I was examining our blades, trying to read the language. I'm getting better at it, and I was using the Glossary that Sam and Kevin started as a guide. They've been adding to it from time to time, and the Edit function is available to us too, just so you know. Actually, when things calmed down, I was going to talk to you about that. Anyway, I remember seeing something on my blade which translated into something like 'all the beasts on the Earth'. At the time, I thought it was referring to my being able to direct animals to attack, and maybe that's just what it is. But I wonder if we shouldn't look at it again anyway, and maybe at yours, too. It couldn't hurt, right?"

Cas gave her a half-shrug. He supposed she was right. At least it was something constructive to do. He had called down to speak to Frank and Dean and even Tommy, just to be on the safe side. All was quiet at the moment, and everyone was fine, but already, Dean was getting impatient. So was Frank, and for a very good reason. Cas and Gail had spoken to her brother on the speaker phone, and the Angels had admitted that they both knew about Jody's health situation now. Her doctor had advised that she had made arrangements for Jody to check into the hospital at the beginning of the following week, Frank had advised. They'd better have the situation resolved by then. Cas had told Frank that, if he had to, he would take Jody to the hospital himself, and he would post armed Angel guards around her room 24/7, if necessary. Frank had said that he appreciated that, but his wife would be going through enough pain and trauma as it was, so he'd prefer not to have to subject her to that, and Cas had understood. Tommy, on the other hand, had been almost cheerful at the prospect of staying home for a while. He and Barry and Carolyn had Skyped with Frank's family a short time ago, and Jody had broken the news to them. Since they weren't getting Rob for another week or so, Tommy had told Cas that he and Barry were glad to have the extra time to spend together, before a teenager descended on their house. The main thing was for Jody to be OK. Tommy had met several women who'd had mastectomies in his travels as a journalist, and they'd all come through them just fine.

But it was curious; when Cas and Gail had spoken to Dean, he'd made no mention of that particular news item, nor had Bobby. Apparently, Jody had only told certain individuals as of yet. But that was her business, Cas and Gail acknowledged. And they had their own pressing issue to deal with, so they had better get to it.

Gail went to get her blade out of the bureau drawer. Cas had his in his blazer pocket, as always. They sat down to examine the markings.

"See, this is what I was looking at," Gail said, showing him the place at her blade. Cas looked at it. "You're right; it does refer to 'the beasts of the Earth'," Cas remarked. He allowed himself a small smile. "Very good. You're getting better at the language." But then, as he continued to scrutinize the markings, his smile faded. "But, I also think that you were right when you surmised that this grouping was referring to your ability to make animals attack. There's an obscure reference connected with the word 'beasts' here - " he pointed - "but, barring further study, I believe that's merely what it's talking about."

Gail sighed. She figured as much. But she'd been hoping. "Is there anything helpful on yours, sweetie?"

Cas studied his blade quietly for a minute or two. Suddenly, something caught his eye. "'Cypress'," he said. Gail looked at him inquiringly. "'Burn'," Cas said after another moment.

"OK, I'll bite," Gail said, thoroughly puzzled. "Is that making sense to you?"

"There are three words here, which all seem to be connected," Cas mused aloud. "'Burn', 'cypress', and 'Archangel'." He sat back, looking thoughtful. "I would feel better if I could be sure that the notations are about the Flood, but I think we have a place to start. The ark was made of cypress wood, and if you'll recall, it was Gabriel who gifted me with the olive branch. I keep it on my desk in the High Office."

Gail was intrigued. "And he never did tell us exactly where he got it from. I wonder if he can help us, Cas. Let's give him a call."

Cas sent out the call, and a moment later, Gabriel came in loud and clear: "Brother! Father! Or whatever the hell I'm supposed to call you, these days! How're they hanging?"

Cas wasn't sure what "they" were exactly, but he winced. "Why are you so loud?" he asked the Archangel.

"Because I'm here, in Heaven," Gabe replied cheerfully. "I'm in Liz's office, sexually harassing her as we speak." Cas could hear Liz giggle in the background. "I was asking her where you and Gail were, and she said, last she heard, you were in the hearing for Patricia. So I figured I'd wait until you were done. No way did I want to get involved with THAT."

"We'll be right there," Cas said. He stashed his blade in his pocket and took Gail's hand, and an instant later, they were in Liz's office. But Gail looked around uncomfortably. Liz's office was no more than a glorified broom closet, and it was way too public. "Let's go to my office, you guys," she said. "It's a lot bigger, and it's more private, too."

They all winked over there, and Gail closed and locked the door behind them, shutting the blinds for good measure. Gabriel was looking at her curiously. "What's with all the cloak and dagger stuff, Kitten?"

"What we're going to talk about now cannot leave this room," Cas said grimly. "Our own family on Earth does not even know what we are about to tell you. You both must promise to keep my counsel."

Liz looked at him, puzzled. "Huh?"

"It's old-timey talk for 'keep your big yap shut'," Gabriel said good-naturedly. "You have my word, Brother."

"Mine too," Liz said promptly.

Cas proceeded to tell the both of them about the hearing, and what Patricia had said. He confessed to his obsession with the Holy War, and what he had discovered on his blade. Then, he told them about the attacks on Earth. The only thing he didn't confide was the deal he had made with Rudy. Gail didn't comment. It was probably best that she and Cas were the only ones who knew about that.

"Sounds to me like you need to talk to Noah," Gabe said affably, once Cas had finished his tale.

Cas frowned. "It wouldn't do any good for you to send me back in time," he remarked. "As much as I would love to go back and stop the Flood from ever happening, Patricia's verbiage was very specific. It is only once I can come to terms with my guilt over the incident that my obsession with the Holy War will go away. Therefore, the incident still needs to have happened."

"Who said anything about time travel?" Gabriel sat back on the couch opposite the couple, grinning. He pretended to yawn, and then he stretched his arms out, putting one arm around Liz's shoulders. She slapped his hand, and he laughed, removing his arm instantly. Liz rolled her eyes, but she was smiling, too. "Have you ever wondered what a cubit actually is?" Gabriel continued. "I asked him that, and you know what he said? 'It's a unit of measurement.' We should have a contest, sometime. Noah, Raguel, and Death. We'll get me and Frank and Gail to face off against the three of them. Sort of like a Joke-Off at the OK Corral. Whoever gets their guy to crack a smile first is the winner. You know, it's a shame, too. Noah used to like to have a good time. He even planted a vineyard after the Flood. Remember, Cas? He used to imbibe from it, too. Maybe we should pair him up with you, Gail," he added, smiling at her.

"What on earth are you babbling about?" Cas said impatiently.

Gabriel regarded him evenly. "When I was considering what to get you as a gift for achieving the High Office, I wanted to get you something that I knew would mean something to you. So I talked to Liz about it, and she knew just what to do. She took me to see the man himself."

"She took you to see Noah?" Cas said in a hushed tone. "How is that even possible?"

"Because he's here, Cas," Liz replied. "He's here, in Heaven."

Cas was astonished. All the centuries that Cas had been here, and Noah had also been here in Heaven the whole time? "How did I not know about this?"

"Because he's in an area that very few Angels know about," Liz answered. "Or, if they do know about it, they choose to pretend that it doesn't exist." She sighed. "When God the Father first set up Heaven, I'm pretty sure he designed this place to feel comfortably familiar to humans, once they arrive. I mean, think about it. We do office work that doesn't really need to be done, and we have break rooms that resemble lunchrooms, even though we don't eat, or even drink coffee. Even our residences mimic those that we had in life. Angels form social clubs. The Junior Seraphs are really just the Junior Jaycees, aren't they? And the Heavenly Hostesses might as well be the Daughters of the American Revolution. We have a library, Cas's Academies, a newly-formed school, and an executive board. And now to top it all off, courtesy of Cas, we have a beautiful new ball diamond, and park area."

"That's all great, but what does it have to do with Noah?" Gail pressed her friend.

"Noah, and many others like him, are living in Heaven's old folks' home," Liz told them. "I volunteer there, a few times a week."

Cas and Gail looked at each other, open-mouthed. "A Seniors' Centre for Angels?" Gail said, starting to smile. "Now I've heard everything."

"I still can't believe I knew nothing about this," Cas said, shaking his head in wonderment.

"Neither did I," Gabriel said to him. "I guess the young bucks like us don't really stop to think about those kinds of things."

"Aren't you and Cas both, like, thousands and thousands of years old?" Gail pointed out.

Gabe opened his mouth, then closed it again. "Time is relative," he eventually said, sniffing disdainfully.

"I'll take you to see Noah," Liz offered. She looked at Gabriel. "Are you coming?"

"No, I'd better get back to Earth," he replied, looking at Cas. "Raguel's gone off the grid, and so has Rowena," the Archangel told Castiel. "He must have shielded them both. I don't like it, Castiel. They're up to something. I'll let you know if I find out what." He snapped his fingers and disappeared.

"Well, goodbye to you, too," Gail said dryly.

Liz giggled, and then she stood. "Let's go see Noah."

Frank had let Jody rest for a while, and after she'd gotten up from her nap, he put the kettle on. Angela was still down, and Rob was in his room, writing.

"So, Cas wants to post armed Angel guards outside my hospital room?" Jody said, once her husband had told her about his conversation with God.

"He might have to, if he doesn't figure this thing out soon," Frank said, getting the mugs out of the cupboard. "I'm not risking a repeat of what happened to Rob, and Gail and Dean." He frowned. "I've got half a mind to get Sam and Dean and go down to the crossroads."

"OK, number one, you're not doing that," Jody retorted. "And, number two, you're not doing that. You'd just be asking for trouble. Let Cas handle Crowley. We've got enough on our plates right now." She sighed. "I've still gotta tell the guys what's going on with me. I left them for last on purpose, because I don't know how to tell them, Frank. Sam and Dean are family to me. Bobby, too. You know, it's funny." She laughed, but there was no humour in her voice, only sad resignation. "Nobody ever tells you, after you find out you have cancer, when you have to tell other people, suddenly YOU'RE in the position of comforting THEM."

Frank poured the hot water into the mugs and then added teabags, bringing the mugs to the kitchen table. He sat down and took his wife's hand. "If you need comforting, that's my job," he told her. "If those guys need comforting, they can sack up. You're dealing with enough right now, as it is."

"Thanks, Pookie," Jody said with a wicked grin, giving his hand a squeeze.

"You know, you can only milk this cancer sympathy thing so far," Frank quipped.

The couple smiled warmly at each other. This was the way they were together. If Frank didn't make irreverent jokes, then Jody would feel ill at ease. When she had first told him about her diagnosis, they had had a cry together. They had been crazy with worry over Rob, and she had just blurted it out. But, after their initial breakdown, Frank had told his wife that he loved her more than anything, and that they would get through this the same way they'd gotten through everything else: together.

"Do me a favour, then," Jody said, taking a sip of her tea. "Call Bobby, and ask him to come down. Then I'll get him to wink me over to the bunker, so I can break the news to him and the boys. That way, nobody's leaving our houses. OK?"

"Okay, Jody. Do you want me to come with you?" her husband asked.

"No," she said, giving his hand another squeeze. "I don't want to leave the kids alone right now. I know, I know; it's irrational. Here I am, insisting that Rob go to Vancouver as soon as I go into the hospital, but I don't want to leave him sitting alone here with Angela. Not until Cas can tell us that the threat has passed."

"I don't think that's irrational at all," Frank told her. He took his cell phone out of his pocket. "I'll call Bobby now."

"Here it is," Bobby said to Patricia. They were standing on the sidewalk in front of the mental hospital. She was looking at the building with trepidation. Bobby could see the look on her face. "This is where I sent myself, after Lucifer scrambled my brain. They can help you, Pat. They helped me." And that statement was true, although it was the King of Hell who had actually cured Bobby in the end. He wasn't about to tell her that little fact, though.

Bobby touched Patricia lightly on the arm, and she turned to face him. "I just wanted to say a couple of things to you before we go in," Bobby continued. "First and foremost, I'm awful damn sorry that happened to you, Patricia. I wish I could take it away from you. I truly do. But, you shouldn't have done what you did to Cas, either. Two wrongs don't make a right. Young Rob nearly died, and if we don't get Cas cured, more people will get hurt. I hope you get the help that you need, but you've gotta want to get better, Pat."

"Which way did you vote, Bobby?" she asked him.

He opened his mouth to reply, and then his cell phone rang. He answered Frank's call tersely, saying he'd call them back in a minute. "Let's go get you checked in," Bobby said, hanging up the phone.

And it was only after Patricia was checked in that it occurred to her that Bobby had never answered her question.

"Set 'em up," Jody said to Dean. She and Bobby and the Winchesters were all sitting around the library table at the bunker. When she and Bobby had arrived, Jody had asked Dean to go to the bar and put out a few bottles, and Sam had gotten them all glasses to drink from. They had all had a drink, toasting to the fact that Rob had made a full recovery. They were looking quizzically at Jody, but she was biding her time.

Finally, Bobby couldn't stand it anymore. They were finishing their second drink now, and he still had no idea why Jody had asked him to bring her here. At first, though, he'd just been content to decompress. Patricia's hearing had taken a lot out of him. He was struggling with how he felt about her, and what she had done. He was also struggling with the fact that he had been one of the two committee members who had voted to send Patricia to Hell. Bobby was a man who was capable of great compassion, and he truly did feel bad about her abuse at Lucifer's hands. Of course he did. He wasn't a monster. But, Patricia had occupied the highest office in Heaven when she had imprisoned and then brainwashed Cas, and she had abused the power of the office in other ways, as well. She had taken the set of laws that Gail and the board had worked so hard on, and that Bobby had put God's official seal to, and set fire to it, simply out of spite. That fact alone was unacceptable, in Bobby's book. But then Cas had shown great leadership, in Bobby's opinion. It would have been very easy for Cas to vote thumbs down on Patricia, and a large part of Bobby had expected him to do just that. But the current God had shown the former Gods that he was capable of leniency and compassion, and maybe it was just as well.

So Bobby had had a couple of belts with Jody and the boys, and he had told them all about the hearing. They had been shocked to hear about what had happened to Patricia, and even more shocked to find out that Cas was apparently still suffering from his obsession with the Holy War. They'd had no idea. Why hadn't he said anything? Then had come the bombshell that Cas and Gail's marriage had been nullified by Patricia. Suddenly, boom, boom, Bobby was bombing them out of the bunker.

"What do you mean, she nullified their marriage?" Dean said angrily. "Can she just do that?"

"How the hell should I know?" Bobby shot back irascibly. "She was God, so I guess so. Cas seemed to think so, anyway. You shoulda seen the look on his face."

They could just imagine. Cas was probably taking the apparent fact that he and Gail were no longer married just as hard as he was taking the fact that he still had the compulsion to wage war on Crowley.

"So Patricia said the only way Cas can get cured of this so-called obsession is to get over the guilt he's got about causing the Flood?" Sam said rhetorically. Then he frowned. "I guess we can't tease him about it anymore, then."

"I'm not so sure we should stop him from torpedoing Crowley's ass, anyway," Jody said bluntly, taking another sip of her drink. All heads turned to look at her. "What?" she asked the men. "Don't tell me you're not all thinking the same thing. Rob almost died, you guys."

"Yeah, but Cas said Crowley didn't order the attack," Sam said, thoughtful. This whole thing was tickling his brain now. There was something fishy going on here. Something just didn't add up. "Think about it, for a minute. A Demon shooter dressed in a red hoodie shoots Rob and Dean and Gail. Cas confronts Crowley, who tells him he's not behind it, but that there ARE rogue Demons coming after us who'll be wearing black or white, like chess pieces. Then Demons wearing black try to use me and Dean for target practice, and then, Cas reports that a Demon safe house was wiped out by people wearing white. Whatever flavour they were. But, Cas said that Crowley said the ones dressed in white were supposed to be going for humans, didn't he? Why would Crowley send assassins to a Demon safe house? He wouldn't. Unless..."

"...Unless, he wants us to THINK he's not behind it. Maybe he sent some of his own people to wipe them out, just to fool us," Bobby said. "There's a Gambit in chess like that. You offer up a couple of your own pawns, to entrap your opponent."

"My head hurts," Dean commented. "But then, how come the Demon who attacked us was wearing red? I doubt that chess thing that you were talking about applies here. Besides, if Cas thought Crowley was pulling something, the King of Hell would be a distant memory by now."

As they all sat there quietly, puzzling over the situation, Jody looked at all three of the mens' faces. Her guys. Her fellas. She'd known them for years now. Bobby, the tough-talking Southern gentleman who used gruffness to cover up his hurt at how poorly life had treated him. It seemed like he had finally found a place of belonging, though, both as an Angel and as the ersatz patriarch of their mixed family. Then there was Dean, the brash and sometimes boorish older brother figure who was arguably the most soft-hearted of them all. And Sam, her special guy, the only one she would let get away with calling her "Jodes". Sam was one smart cookie. Jody felt like her IQ went up 10 points just by sitting near him. Her news was going to devastate them.

"I have breast cancer," she blurted out. She was always blurting it out, it seemed. She'd done that to Frank, and she'd done the same thing with his sister, too. But, really, was there ever any good way to tell the people that you loved that you had a disease that could potentially kill you?

Sam got up from his chair and walked over to where Jody sat. He grabbed her hands and brought her to her feet, enveloping her in a big bear hug. He didn't say anything, just held her tightly.

Damn him. Damn him. Jody started to cry into his chest. Which, of course, only made him hold her even closer.

"OK, OK." Jody sniffled after a moment, pulling out of the embrace. "Okay. Pity party is over. I'm not some wimpy, weepy schoolgirl. I'm gonna have the surgery, and whatever follow-up treatments I have to have, and I'm gonna be fine. I just wanted to let you guys know, so you could start shopping for my get-well presents now. I expect flowers from you yahoos, minimum. And make sure you don't cheap out. I'll probably be in recovery for a while."

"You've got it," Bobby said in a husky voice. "Anything, Jody. Anything you need, you just let us know. Does Cas know?"

"Gail does, so I'm pretty sure the answer to your question would be yes," she told him dryly. "But we all know there's nothing he can do about it. Besides, we'd better leave him alone, to deal with Crowley. I really don't want armed Angel guards in my room while I'm trying to enjoy a good drug-induced sleep. That'd just be creepy."

"Come here, Jody," Dean said to her. He was gesturing to the chair next to him. She walked over there and sat down.

He took her hand. "Are you OK, Jody?" Dean asked her.

"Yeah, Dean," she replied.

His gaze was penetrating. "Are you OK, Jody?" he asked again.

She laughed shortly. "No."

Dean nodded his head slowly, in understanding. "Well, you know what?" he said after a moment. "You're gonna be. I promise you, Jody. You're gonna be. OK?"

"OK, Dean." She smiled tremulously. "OK. Thanks."

"We'll give Frank an extra-hard time while you're in the hospital," Dean joked. "Help take some of the load off."

Jody's smile grew until it became a genuine one. "Thanks, Dean. That WOULD be a big help." She leaned forward in her chair and kissed him tenderly on the forehead, and a single tear squeezed out of the corner of his eye, dribbling down his cheek.

"Who wants another drink?" Jody asked her friends.

VIGNETTE - SENIOR MOMENTS

Liz walked with Cas and Gail to the remote area of Heaven where the Seniors' Centre was located. She had advised that it was not her policy to just pop over there. The people they were going to see were Angels, of course, but they were still older folks, and it would be cruel to startle them with sudden appearances, she said.

As they approached the glass doors to the recreation area, Liz stopped. "I just wanted to give you a heads-up," she told her friends. "The Angels here are pretty nice, for the most part. You get a few crotchety ones, but the vast majority are OK, once you get to know them. They may be a little dotty, or forgetful sometimes, but mostly, they just need a little TLC. Many of them have been here a long, long time. Either they have no family left, or they've been forgotten. They just need a little kindness, and a little attention."

"What do you do here?" Gail asked her girlfriend.

"I call myself an Activities Coordinator, but it's really just a glorified term for spending time with these folks, and listening to them. Keeping their spirits up. I think up things for them to do, to fill their days. They're just happy to have the company," Liz replied.

Cas smiled gently. "Liz, I have no idea if I have the authority to do so, but I think I should look into the canonization process for you."

She giggled. "Thanks, Cas, but I'm just trying to do my part."

Liz pushed the double doors open, and the trip entered the room.

"Finally!" Ruth exclaimed. "Liz is here, everybody. Take your places." A host of Angels moved slowly to their seats. The room was set up with long tables and chairs, and there was a table on a raised dais at the other end.

Gail peered at it. "Is that - ?"

"Bingo," Liz replied.

Cas was confused. "But Gail didn't ask her question, yet."

Liz giggled. "No, Cas. It's Bingo Night."

"And thank goodness you're here, Liz," Ruth's husband Joab said. He had taken his seat beside his wife. He was all ready to go, but Ruth was still arranging her cards. "If you hadn't shown up, it was Hiram's turn to call the game, and he always gets the numbers mixed up. Or, he forgets to mark down what numbers he's already called."

"I don't remember that ever happening before," Hiram said, taking his seat next to Joab. Gail's lips twitched.

"Excuse me a second," Liz said. She walked down the hallway to the residences. Obviously, Noah was in his room, Cas thought. Then, he felt a finger poking him in the arm, and he looked down. There was a wizened-looking elderly woman peering up at him.

"Are you the Almighty?" Leah asked him.

Cas smiled at her. "Yes, I hold the High Office."

"Can you do something about the temperature in my room?" Leah said irritably. "It's freezing in there! No matter how many blankets I put on, it's so cold I can practically see my breath. I'm making a quilt now. You're all on it."

"Hello, Castiel," Noah said. He had just popped himself and Liz into the recreation room. Apparently, Biblical legends didn't concern themselves with worrying about startling others, Gail thought. She regarded him curiously. He looked like any older gentleman to her, really. She didn't know what she'd been expecting. A man with a big beard and lots of animals traipsing after him? Steve Carell, maybe? But Noah just looked like someone's grandfather.

"Castiel?!" Leah exclaimed. "I thought you said you were God!"

"I am," he assured her. "I'm both."

"Haven't you ever heard of the Holy Trinity?" Ruth said irritably. "Sit down, Leah. We were supposed to have started by now."

"I don't see what difference it makes if we're a few minutes late," Leah grumbled, but she did so under her breath, moving towards her usual seat.

"I'll look into your problem," Cas called after her. He looked at Gail. "I wonder if we have a maintenance department."

She was highly amused. "Maybe Dean's got a toolbelt you could borrow. I'm not so sure that's not her aim, anyway. To get you in her room. After all, you're God, and you're gorgeous."

"I understand you wanted to talk to me?" Noah said to Cas.

"Yes, if I may," Cas said in a respectful tone. He couldn't believe it. He was actually speaking with Noah himself.

"I'll talk to you, Castiel, but only if Liz is there, to bear witness to our conversation," Noah said warily.

"But what about the Bingo game?" Ruth said, agitated. "We need Liz to call the Bingo game!"

"Liz is the one I want to bear witness to our conversation," Noah insisted stubbornly.

"I'll tell you what," Liz said quickly, before Ruth could start arguing again. "Gail can call the game, in my place. She's my best friend, and she's God's wife. You can trust her."

Ruth eyed Gail with suspicion. She didn't know the girl from Eve, but if Liz vouched for her, Ruth supposed it would be all right. God's wife, eh? God, indeed. He walks in here wearing jeans, and holding her hand, the elderly woman thought disdainfully. In Ruth's day, God the Father dressed in a nice suit and tie, or in his dress robe, if it was a special occasion. And he would certainly not have shown up here holding hands with a woman. In her day, such displays of affection were kept behind closed doors.

But Ruth had been looking forward to this Bingo game all day. She had all of her cards spread out just the way she liked them, her dabbers at the ready, and the mini-statues of the Saints lined up, one behind each row of cards. She'd brought out her luckiest ones today. She hadn't had a win in quite a while.

"Fine," Ruth said. "Whatever. Let's just get started."

"Just a minute," Liz said to Noah and Cas. "I'll get Gail situated, and then we'll go somewhere you two can talk privately."

Liz led Gail over to the table on the dais. "It's really easy," she told her friend. "You just pick the numbers out of the cage here, after you spin it like this." She cranked the lever, mixing up the balls. "Then, you call out the number you picked, and mark it down on this sheet of paper here. That's so you can verify that the numbers are right, in case there's a dispute." She lowered her voice. "Sometimes, you'll get a false Bingo. Some of these folks get a little confused. Just call out the numbers loud, and slow, and you'll be fine."

"OK, that seems pretty simple," Gail stated. She sat down at the table, turned the lever a couple of times to mix up the Bingo balls, and looked out at all the older Angels. "Ready, everyone?"

"Yes, yes. Get on with it," Ruth said impatiently.

Oh, brother, Gail thought. What was the rush? She opened up the cage and took out one of the balls. "B12."

"No, no, no," Hiram said, and Leah added, "You're not doing it right."

"What?" Gail said, puzzled. "That's what it says." She showed them the ball. "B12."

"You're supposed to say "B, as in - " Ruth started to say, and Liz interjected, "I call it that way to liven things up a bit." She lowered her voice again. "Let's face it; there isn't too much excitement around here. And we can't even have pudding night, 'cause none of us eat. They're old folks, so it's not like we can have wild parties, or anything. Some of them might not even be able to stay focused till the end of this game."

"OK, OK, I get it," Gail said. "B, as in...Bethlehem."

Liz smiled approvingly. "There you go. Do it like that, and everyone will be happy." She started to walk away from the table as Gail marked the number down and dropped the ball into the empty box next to her chair. Then she turned the crank again, and chose another number. "I, as in Isaiah, 25. I25."

The seniors were all quiet now, looking down at their cards for the numbers. Gail breathed a sigh of relief. She had this. It was going to be a cake of cake.

Liz led Cas and Noah to a small room around the corner from the recreation area. They went inside, and she closed the door behind them as the men sat down.

"So, Castiel. You're in the High Office now, I see," Noah began.

"Yes, that's right," Cas confirmed, as Liz took a seat.

"I trust you have overcome your propensity for making mistakes," Noah said dryly.

"Noah," Liz chided him gently. "That's not very nice."

"I like you very much, my dear, but this is between myself and Castiel," Noah said to her. He turned to Cas. "Those animals drove us all crazy, with their constant noise. And I will never completely get the smell of dung out of my nose."

Liz's lips twitched, but then she saw that both Noah and Cas wore grave expressions. There was obviously more to this situation than met the eye. She kept her mouth shut as the two men continued to stare at each other.

Gail was struggling to come up with Biblical references to the letters now. It had seemed like a cute idea at first, but she'd called quite a few numbers now, and she had never exactly been a student of the Bible. Which was very ironic, considering that she was God's wife. Maybe she'd better get Cas to give her a few lessons on the Old Testament after this.

"B, as in...Babylon, 7. B7," she said out loud, calling out the next number.

"I know the whore of Babylon," Joab piped up. All heads turned to look at him as he stood up from his chair. Gail looked at him, wide-eyed, trying not to burst out laughing.

Ruth smacked her husband on the arm. "Sit down," she said sharply. "That was my sister, and she was just a little loose," she said to the rest of the room. "Now, sit down, and be quiet," she told Joab. "Pay attention. I only need one more number!"

As Joab sank sheepishly back down into his chair, Gail was pinching herself, willing herself not to laugh. "That was my sister, and she was just a little loose"? It was a wonder Gail didn't just slide right off her chair. Imagine what Frank or Gabriel could have done with a line like that. Heaven help her.

Gail cleared her throat against the laugh that was threatening to bubble up. She'd better keep going, before she lost it. "N, as in...Nazareth, 35. N35." She waited. Nothing. Wow. "B, as in..." She was stuck. Don't think of Babylon, don't think of Babylon, she told herself. Think of something serious. "B, as in...Beelzebub, 9. B9."

They all looked at her sharply. Oh, man. God's wife, invoking the Devil. Great. That was really going to endear her to these people. But after a moment, their heads dropped to their cards again, and they marked the number.

Still, no Bingo. Unbelievable. Gail looked around, but everyone seemed to be still with her, so she forged on.

"O, as in..." Wait a minute. What was in the Bible starting with the letter O? She was at a loss. Completely blank. "O, as in...Oh, my Lord, I wish somebody would win this game, 65. O65."

Joab sprang to his feet again. "Bingo!"

Gail looked at him. Great. Finally. He had one little square of a Bingo card in his hand, and he was waving it around excitedly.

Ruth threw her dabber down in disgust. Gail noted that Joab's wife had easily a dozen cards spread out in front of her. Ruth picked up the figurine of Saint Christopher. "You're supposed to be the Patron Saint of good luck," she said to it. Then, she picked up the statuette that was sitting next to that one. "And you're supposed to be the Patron Saint of gambling, Saint Bernadine."

"You probably shouldn't be calling on a Patron Saint of gambling to help you, anyway," Hiram pointed out.

Ruth glared at him, and then she glared at her husband, who was still waving his Bingo card around. "Sit down, you old fool," she said irritably. "You probably got the numbers wrong."

Now all the old folks were grumbling, and Gail was getting nervous. Somehow, suddenly, she'd lost control of the room. She'd better do something fast, before she had a full-scale revolution on her hands.

"Of course I will give you what you need, Castiel," Noah was saying. "I will be glad to be rid of it. Wait here."

He popped out of the room, and Cas let out a long breath. He didn't even realize he'd been holding it.

Liz was trying not to stare at him, but she was aware of the thick tension in the room. Noah had been coldly polite to Cas, and Cas had been stiffly respectful to Noah. It was clear that neither man was very comfortable in the other's presence. But Noah was saying that he would help Cas, and that was why they were here.

Noah popped back in a minute or two later, handing Cas a small box. "There," the older man said. "That's the last sliver of wood from the ark. Do whatever you need to do, Castiel."

"Thank you, Noah," Cas said in a subdued tone, not making eye contact.

Noah sat down slowly in his chair. "Look at me, Castiel," he said sharply. Cas's head snapped up. "When you look at me, what do you see?" Noah asked him. But then he continued to speak, not giving Cas a chance to try to form an answer. "I'll tell you what you see: You see a pathetic old man." Castiel started to shake his head, to demur, but Noah held up his hand. "No, Castiel. Let me speak my piece. You owe me that much." He sighed. "I want to tell you how it feels, to be tucked away in here. Forgotten. I used to have adventures, like you do now. I used to be young, and vital. Full of life. I had a family. A wife, children, grandchildren...But they're all gone now, and here I am, all alone. The Father anointed me, and made me immortal. He said I was a Biblical legend, and that was my reward. But when you are lonely, and bored, and without your loved ones, that is no reward at all. It's more like a sentence. I wish that Flood had never happened. Or, if it had to happen, I wish that I had been swept away in it."

Cas felt terrible. He looked down at the box in his hand. He should never have come here. He opened up his mouth to speak, and then he shut it again. What could he possibly say? His human family had all thought that it was so funny, and a small part of Cas had too, at least while they were laughing. But it certainly didn't seem so funny now. He felt awful. Cas had never thought of it from Noah's point of view before, and he certainly had never realized what the Father had done, when it came to Noah. Still, nothing Castiel could say now would change what had already been, would it?

"We'll go back to the recreation area now," Noah said, rising abruptly from his chair. He moved to the door and opened it, leaving the room. Liz and Cas exchanged surprised glances, and then they got up and followed him.

They could hear the voices all the way down the hall, and when the trio got to the recreation room, it was total bedlam. Nearly everyone who was there was arguing with someone else.

"You cheated!" Ruth was yelling at her husband.

"How could I possibly have done that?" Joab objected. He gestured to Gail. "SHE called the numbers!"

"I don't know, but you must have," Ruth insisted stubbornly.

"You're just mad because you didn't win," Leah pointed out. "You should be glad your husband won. You should be glad you even HAVE a husband."

"I knew your sister, and your husband was right in the first place," Hiram chipped in.

"Who asked you?" Ruth retorted.

"Everybody, please, calm down," Gail was saying, but it was all in vain. Nobody was listening to her.

Liz was astonished. What in the heck was going on, here? What had Gail done?

Cas was wondering the same thing. His poor wife was practically shouting now, but the room was in total chaos. Then Cas felt a tug at his sleeve, and he looked down to see the most elderly-looking man he had ever seen.

"Thank you for coming, my Lord," the man said in a hoarse voice, "and thank you for bringing your wife. She's an absolutely lovely girl. A real cutie-pie. I have to say, this is the most fun I've ever had here, and I've been here longer than anyone." Then he smiled.

Liz's mouth fell open. She had never seen Methuselah even speak before, let alone smile. She guessed that miracles were still possible, even at his age.

Gail came down from the dais, and Cas took her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I'm sorry, Liz," Gail said. "I don't know what happened. I didn't mean to get them all riled up like this. I thought if I awarded the prize and started the next game, that things would calm down. But then they said - "

" - There IS no prize," Liz finished for her. "That's right. They just play for fun, and for something to do. And we usually only play one game. I told you, their attention normally wanders after that."

Gail was amazed. All this drama over a game that had no prize at the end? Imagine if there had been one. Ruth would probably be whacking people with her cane, trying to take out the competition. Maybe Ruth should try little statues of Cas and the Archangels, instead.

Noah moved to the centre of the room. "Quiet!" he said in an authoritative tone. Everyone stopped arguing and looked at him. "Now calm down, everyone," Noah continued. "It's just a game, and games are supposed to be fun." He looked at Cas. "I guess that a few of us here have forgotten what it's like to have fun." He smiled, and the smile transformed him. "I think I need to lead by example. So, I forgive you, Castiel. I held on to the anger and the bitterness for years and years, and exactly where has that gotten me? Locked away in here, alone and forgotten. Some of that was my own doing, as well. I know that the Flood was just an accident, Castiel. I was acting as though you had done it purposely, just to mess up my life. But life doesn't work that way. Sometimes, things just happen. It's how you deal with those things that determines your character. I'm afraid I find myself lacking in that department."

"That's not true," Ruth said to Noah. "You're one of the finest men I have ever known. We all feel that way, Noah."

All of the people who were gathered in the room nodded and smiled, adding their praise for Noah.

"But I still say Joab cheated," Ruth added, and the arguments started up again.

Noah touched Cas on the arm. "Go. Save yourselves," he said dryly, and Gail laughed. Noah gave her a quick smile. "Your husband is still feeling his way, Gail. Try to be patient with him." He looked at Cas once more. "Take what's in that box and burn it, Castiel. Then, don't look back. Only look ahead. Thank you for the lesson, my Lord."

He turned back to the arguing seniors as Cas, Gail and Liz discreetly left the room.


	3. The Two Knights' Defense

Chapter 3 - The Two Knights' Defense

Cas and Gail parted ways with Liz after leaving the Seniors' Centre. They both thanked her profusely, but Cas had wanted to process his encounter with Noah in private. Then, when his mind was right, he was going to burn the piece of cypress wood from the original ark that Noah had given to him. Hopefully, that would put paid to his guilty feelings about the Flood, and remove Patricia's conditioning of his psyche once and for all.

But as they entered their suite, Cas's cell phone rang. He handed the box to Gail and reached into his pocket to answer it.

"Hey, Cas, it's Sam," the younger Winchester said. "I thought you would want to know: my security camera has picked up some Demons outside. They're all wearing black clothes, like the ones who shot at me and Dean."

"Is he there with you?" Cas asked sharply.

"Yeah, don't worry, I'm here," Dean said, the irritation plain in his voice. "I wanted to go out there and just plug 'em all, but there are a couple dozen, so we figured we'd better call you."

"You were right to do so," Cas said, but now suddenly, he was hearing Crowley's voice in his head.

"We need to talk," the King of Hell said, and Cas gritted his teeth. It was unpleasant enough to hear from his brother as it was, let alone having Crowley's voice boring directly into his brain like this.

"I'm dealing with something, at the moment," Cas said to him, and Crowley replied coolly, "As am I. I just received a report that another one of my safe houses was hit, by individuals dressed in white."

"That's not my concern," Castiel snapped.

"I disagree," Crowley retorted, "as the assailants left one extremely tortured survivor, who says that the individuals in question advised my employees that YOU sent them."

"Me?" Cas said, surprised. "I most certainly did not. But right now, there are a dozen Demons outside the bunker, and I didn't send THOSE, either. You had better not have been lying to me, Crowley."

"And why should I believe YOU?" Crowley shot back. "Simply because you're God? You wouldn't know what's become of my lieutenant Rudy, by any chance, would you, Castiel?"

Cas's blood ran cold. What did Crowley know? But Cas was starting to feel the itch, now. Crowley was lying. Of course he was. He was just too much of a coward to admit that he was behind the attacks, because he knew that Castiel was going to tear his Kingdom down, and then set it to burn. The Earth needed to be cleansed.

"Cas? Cas!" Dean was yelling. "Are you even listening to us?"

Cas handed the phone to Gail. "Here. Talk to them, please. Tell them we'll be right there. I've got Crowley talking in my head right now."

Gail put the box she'd been holding down on the coffee table and took the cell phone from him, but she was eyeing him warily now. This had to be the worst possible time for Cas to be dealing with Crowley.

She put the phone to her ear. "Guys, Cas is in the middle of another call right now - " she started to say, but Sam interrupted her. "Hold on. I'm getting a call from Frank," he told her. He handed the phone to Dean.

"Gail, what the hell is going on with Cas?" Dean barked in her ear.

"Hold on, Frank, we're on the phone with them right now," she heard Sam saying in the background. "He's saying there's a couple of dozen Demons outside their house, too," Sam said out loud. "There are too many for them to engage, but Jody's at the back door holding one of the candlesticks, and Frank's at the front door, holding the other one. It looks like the Demons can't enter the place, as long as they're doing that. Frank is saying he tried to call Cas, but all he's getting is the Voice Mail."

"That's 'cause we're tying up the line," Gail said to Dean, who told Sam to tell Frank that. Meanwhile, Cas and Crowley were still arguing in Cas's head, and now, Gail started to hear Rob's voice in her own head, praying urgently for her and Cas to come.

That did it. "Everybody, stop!" Gail exclaimed. "Tell Sam and Frank we'll be right there," she said, and then she hung up Cas's phone. She switched off her frequency, so she could hear herself think for a moment.

"Tell Crowley we'll call him right back," she said to Cas. "I have an idea."

First, Cas and Gail showed up at Frank's house with Ethan, Riley, and Efram as backup. The five of them fought and dispatched the Demons that were surrounding the house, in fairly short order. Then Gail cleaned up all the blood, and then they popped into the house to tell her brother and his family that the Demons were all gone.

"But, stay vigilant," Cas warned them sternly. "Gail and I are heading to the bunker right now, to tend to their issue. Crowley is going to meet us there, and we are going to hash this out with him, once and for all. This is going to stop, right now. I can promise you that."

"Is he still claiming he's not behind this?" Frank asked his brother-in-law angrily, gesturing out the window.

"Yes," Cas said tersely.

"Do you believe him?" Frank pressed him.

"We're wasting time. We'll talk later," Gail said shortly. "Let's go, guys." They all popped outside. "Thanks a lot," Gail said to their Angel friends. "We'll take it from here. Stand by for further instructions."

The men looked at her curiously. Then they glanced at Cas. Why wasn't he saying anything? But his eyes were blazing a bright blue now, and his lips were pursed tightly. They knew that look.

"OK, Gail. Call us if you need us," Ethan said quickly, and the Angels vanished.

Crowley met the couple outside the bunker. He snapped his fingers, and the Demons that were gathered outside froze in place.

"We just came from Frank's house," Cas said immediately. "We had to put down a couple of dozen of your slowest and stupidest there. I thought you were smarter than that, Crowley."

The King frowned. "And I thought YOU were smarter than THAT, Castiel. I don't know how many times, and in how many ways, I can tell you that I am NOT responsible. Do you want it in French? Spanish? Esperanto, maybe?"

"Let's keep the sarcasm to a minimum, here," Gail said, making a face. "We're all just trying to figure out what's going on."

"He's a liar, that's what's going on," Cas said angrily.

"Mind your tone, Castiel," Crowley said irritably. "And your use of the 'L' word, too. Or have you forgotten that my intel is that YOU ordered the attacks on my safe houses? Yet, I was willing to take your word. I should think you could afford me the same courtesy."

"Maybe I would, if you weren't the epitome of all that is Unholy and Unclean," Cas shot back, raising his voice.

"I'll have you know that I took a bath just this morning," Crowley said disdainfully. "And as for the other, you're confusing me, now: are you trying to flatter me, or insult me?"

Gail was willing her lips not to twitch now. Crowley was being witty and he was speaking with a fair amount of dignity, considering the way that Cas was talking to him. It was her husband who was foaming at the mouth, and capitalizing his words. Cas's obsession was in full bloom now. If only they'd had a little more time before all of this had started. But there was no way that Cas was in the right frame of mind to try and cure himself right now.

"You know that if you're lying, God can find you anywhere, right?" Gail said to the King.

"Yes, yes. I know that," Crowley said impatiently. "I know. Castiel's God, and I'm not." He looked at his brother. "Whatever else has passed between us, I haven't got the bollocks to rile you up, Castiel, not while you have that Godly righteousness coursing through your veins." Then a faint smile played on his lips. "But the way you've been behaving, I don't believe you'll be God for very long, anyway."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Cas growled, taking a step towards him.

Gail moved in-between them, putting her hand on her husband's chest. "Stop," she said to him. "Our job here is to resolve the problem at hand."

"Listen to your wife," Crowley told Cas. "She's making a lot of sense."

"And as for you, we need you to do something," Gail said to Crowley, wheeling around to look at him. "If you're telling the truth about not being behind these attacks, you need to prove it to us now." She stretched out her hand and Cas put a Demon knife into it. This was the most dangerous part of the plan, Gail thought. If Cas decided to, he could just push her aside and attack Crowley with that knife, and then, the Holy War would be on. But, Cas let her take the knife away from him.

"Have you got your Angel blade with you?" Gail asked Crowley now, and he gave her a curt nod.

"Of course I do, sweetheart. When it comes to your husband, I believe in the motto 'Don't leave home without it'," he replied. He opened his jacket pocket and produced it.

Actually, she had been wrong a moment ago, Gail thought. THIS was the most dangerous part of the plan, right here. But it needed to play out this way.

"Here's what's going to happen," Gail said, keeping her voice as steady as she could. "We're giving you a choice, now. Either take this Demon knife and help us kill those Demons out there, or stab me with that Angel blade you're holding."

Crowley's jaw dropped. His eyes shifted to Cas, who just stood there projecting a facade of calm, even though his heart was hammering in his chest.

Then, Crowley started to smile. "The Queen's Gambit. Very good, you two. White offers up one of its own to Black, to test his opponent." He put the Angel blade back in his pocket. "Queen's Gambit declined."

As Crowley reached for the Demon knife, his and Gail's hands touched, just for a moment. She saw her father, Vincent, standing in the living room of the house in Denver, bathed in Frank's parents' blood. Then, she saw Crowley in that same living room, bending over a crib and tickling a baby's cheek. And then she saw the silhouette of a man, backlit by a fire in an old stone fireplace, holding two infants and then replacing one of them in a bed of straw.

Crowley jerked his hand away, eyeing her warily. "You know way more than you've ever told me," Gail said quietly, staring at him.

The King ignored her, raising the Demon knife high, instead. "Let's go," he said to the couple, and he snapped his fingers, reanimating the Demons.

A few minutes and a couple of dozen dead Demons later, Crowley was waving his hand, clearing the field behind the bunker of meat suits. Gail was waving her hands over Cas, cleaning him, and then she cleaned the blood off of herself.

Crowley had a very frightened Demon named Hank by the shirt front. He dragged the hapless black-eyed man over to one of the lawn chairs that Sam had put out behind the bunker and slammed him into it. Then the King snapped his fingers and a set of chains wrapped themselves around Hank.

Hank was sweating bullets now. The King of Hell, God, and God's wife had just gone through his buddies like a hot knife through butter, and they had left him standing. Ordinarily, Hank might think that would be a good thing. But, Crowley liked to torture traitors, Castiel's reputation in that area was beyond legend, and some of Hank's friends had seen Castiel's little pit bull of a wife in action in Europe, and apparently, she was almost as scary as the men.

"I can see by the look on your face that you know who we are," Castiel said to Hank in a sinister voice. "Therefore, you know what we are capable of. Who is behind these attacks?"

Hank swallowed, hard. "I don't know."

"Wrong answer," Gail said curtly. Hank looked at her curiously. She was a small little thing, but he could feel the power emanating from her.

"I mean it. I don't know," Hank said, trembling.

Crowley put the Demon knife to his throat. "You're lying," he said harshly.

"Of course I'm lying, Your Majesty," Hank said in a bewildered tone. "I'm a Demon. That's what we do."

"Including you?" Castiel said to Crowley, and the King rolled his eyes. "Not this, again. I just helped you to kill a couple dozen of my own staff, to prove to you that they're not acting under my direction."

Hank was looking at the two men speculatively. Interesting. Maybe, if he played his cards right, he could get out of this yet.

"If you take the chains off me, I can take you to the headquarters," Hank told them.

"Why don't you just tell us where it is?" Cas asked the Demon.

"Because then, you'll just kill me," Hank retorted.

Cas said nothing. Well, he wasn't wrong about that. He looked at Crowley.

"Fine," Crowley sighed. He snapped his fingers again, and the chains vanished.

"Hey, what the hell's going on?" Dean said. He had just come out of the bunker door, and he stopped short when he saw the three of them together, standing over a Demon.

Dean had distracted the trio, and Hank saw his chance. He opened his mouth and smoked out. The black smoke raced through the air over to Dean, entering his open mouth.

Crap! Gail thought, throwing her hands up in frustration. There was no way they could torture him for the information now. She and Cas exchanged frustrated glances. Crowley made a move towards Dean, but Cas gave him a look that made even Crowley's blood run cold. The King stood down.

Hank smiled, and Dean's green eyes turned black, startling Gail. Both Cas and Crowley had seen him like that before, of course. But the Demon had been driven out of Dean back then by Sam and Cas before Gail had met him, although he had still been struggling with the Mark at that time.

"So THIS is what it feels like to be in Dean Winchester," Hank said slyly. "More than a few of my buddies would be very jealous of me right now." He stretched his arms out, flexing them. "Lots of muscles, but not too many brain cells. Still, maybe I'll stay in here for a while. Have a few drinks, get laid..."

"Cas," Gail said in an angry tone, and he gave her a slight nod. She'd been heading over to Dean, anyway. There was no way she could let this stand for another minute.

"I'm giving you one chance to get out of him," Gail said, shaking her blade at the Demon.

It was Dean's body and Dean's face, but the eyes looking down at her were pitch-black, and Hank had perverted Dean's usual smile into a sneer. "Oh, yeah?" he retorted. "And what are you gonna do to me? If you hurt your hubby's butt-buddy, he'll smite you into next week."

"No, he won't," Gail said pertly. "And, here's why." She stretched up, putting her fingers on his forehead, and a second later, the Demon's jaw dropped, and his eyes widened. "No way," Hank breathed.

"Way," Gail said, smiling sweetly. Then she slapped her palm on his forehead, speaking the Latin words for the exorcism. Crowley watched with interest, amused. He'd had no idea she knew how to do that. Castiel must have taught her. It had been a clever ploy on her part. Hank might have expected it from either of the men, but he wouldn't have been expecting it from her.

The black smoke started to issue from Dean's mouth, and it was making its way back to Hank's vessel now. Once Hank was back in himself, Castiel grabbed him, and Gail popped a disoriented Dean back into the bunker. "Stay here until we come in," she ordered him sternly, and then she popped herself back out.

To her astonishment, Cas was standing over Hank, his Demon knife dripping with Hank's blood. "Nice going, Castiel," Crowley said, raising his voice. "Now we're back at Square One!"

Gail let out a frustrated breath. She'd been afraid of this. Cas had obviously lifted another Demon blade from somewhere. Dammit! She probably should have frisked him. But there was no time to lose now. Cas was looking at Crowley with a Demon blade in his hand, and right now, Cas couldn't be trusted. She had been hoping that they would be able to hold on to the element of surprise a little bit longer, but she couldn't take the chance now.

She waved her hand, and the Demon blade disappeared from Cas's hand. Crowley's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. Since when had she been able to do that? Still, he dipped his head in acknowledgement of her gesture, and then he regarded Cas coolly. "Itchy blade hand, Castiel?" he said dryly. "Why don't you just smite me, then, and have done with it? You're God, aren't you?"

"No, he's not," Gail said cheerfully. "I am."

Crowley was astonished. "Beg pardon?"

"You heard me," Gail replied. She was moving towards the spot where he and Cas were standing, over Hank's dead vessel. "I'm God, at the moment."

The King of Hell was speechless for a minute, but as usual, he made a quick recovery. "May I ask why?"

"You can ask, but we're not required to tell you," Gail said dryly. "Now, let's go inside. We're going to go on the premise that you're telling us the truth, and that we have a common enemy. But if we find out you're lying to us, I'll be the one to smite you. And you know what a vindictive little so-and-so I can be. I have a list as long as Sam's arm of bad things you've done to me and my family. So I'd behave myself, if I were you."

Crowley raised an eyebrow. "I've never been more turned on by God in my life," he quipped, "and that includes the time that our Bobby held the Office."

Gail rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Just remember what I said. Oh, and just so you know, I haven't forgotten about our little connection earlier, and I know you haven't, either. I promise you, we'll be talking about that after all this b.s. is over. Just so you know." She gave him an insincere smile, and despite what she was saying, the King's lips twitched. What an entertaining adversary she was.

"Call downstairs, then, and have one of the flannel twins invite me in," he said to her.

"No need," Gail said. She concentrated, and an instant later, the three of them were standing in the bunker's library area. Wow, Gail thought, impressed. Cas had been right. These things were easy when you were God.

Before they'd come down from Heaven, Gail had asked Cas to transfer his Godly powers to her for the duration of their time spent with Crowley. The King of Hell enraged his brother at the best of times, and they hadn't had the chance to try to cure Cas of his obsession yet. She loved her husband more than anything, but she couldn't trust him right now. So he had agreed to give her his powers to hold, in case he lost his temper. And it was a good thing, too, as it turned out.

"What the hell?" Dean exclaimed. It seemed like he was saying that an awful lot, lately. "Since when do you just pop in here unannounced?" he said to Crowley angrily.

"Since I came with God," the King said, smirking. "Therefore, I'm a VIP now. Fetch us a drink, will you, Samantha? There's a good lad."

Sam glowered at him. "I'm sure you have your reasons for bringing him here, Cas, but do we have to give him drinks, too?"

"Wrong gender, Moose," Crowley said cheerfully, tilting his head towards Gail. The brothers looked at her, puzzled.

"Long story," Gail said to them. "But, stand back, 'cause I've always wanted to try this." She waved her hand, and a number of bottles and some drinking glasses appeared in the middle of the library table. "Cool," she said pertly, nodding her head in approval.

Sam did a double-take, and then he did another one as Crowley helped himself to a drink, giving Gail a small bow. Now he was really wishing that she'd won the election. Gail was a God he could work with.

"I might be able to work out an algorithm, based on the locations of the Demon safe houses," Sam mused aloud. "Then I can hack into the city's website for traffic cams, or other security footage."

"And that's where I come in," Crowley said, gesturing with his drink. "I'll give you the locations of the safe houses where the attacks took place. It's not like we'll be using them anymore, anyway."

Dean went over to where Cas was standing. "Are you OK, man?" he asked his friend quietly. "You're looking a little frazzled."

"I'm fine, Dean," Cas said, tight-lipped. "I'm just trying to remain calm."

"Have a drink, Castiel," Crowley said. "Unclench."

"Please help me, Dean," Cas said through gritted teeth. "I feel the need to kill him."

"Who doesn't?" Dean quipped.

Gail came over to where the two of them were standing. "This is serious, Dean," she said, sotto voce. "That's why I'm holding Cas's powers right now. Crowley may irritate the crap out of us, but we have to put up with him for the time being. The important thing is to get to the bottom of these attacks and put a stop to them. You don't want anyone else to get shot, do you?"

"Of course not," Dean replied. "But, why didn't you guys tell us that Cas still had his Holy War obsession?"

Gail looked quickly in Crowley's direction, but he was kibbitzing with a very annoyed-looking Sam over Sam's laptop. "Stay quiet about that," she told Dean sharply. "The last thing we need is HIM finding out about it." If he didn't already know, Gail added to herself. But she didn't want to open up that can of worms. Because if Crowley knew about that, who knew what else he knew? If he'd somehow found out about Cas's deal with Rudy, they could have a full-scale family feud on their hands. And there was enough infighting going on now, as it was.

"If we can put the locations of your active safe houses in my computer model, we might be able to figure out where they're going to strike next," Sam was saying to Crowley.

"Nice try, Sam," Crowley said in a clipped tone. "As if I would give the Winchesters the addresses of all of my safe houses. 'Not gonna happen', to use your brother's vernacular."

Sam sat back in his chair, frustrated. "Fine. I'll run the algorithm, but I don't have high hopes. Without all the data, it's only guesswork, at this point."

"I have faith that you'll figure it out," Crowley quipped.

Dean, Cas and Gail came back to the table. Gail went to where Sam and Crowley were, while Dean pulled Cas around to the other side of the table.

"What's going on?" Cas asked Sam.

The younger Winchester frowned. "I'm running the program, but HE won't give me the locations of the active safe houses."

"Of course he won't," Cas said, somewhat unexpectedly. "Why should he? Nor would I, if I were in his shoes." He started to smile, but it was a cold smile. "But, the King of Hell is forgetting something: Gail and I can sense otherworldly beings. A Demon safe house would be simple enough for us to detect. If you can pick up any activity en masse by beings dressed in white on any of your security footage, we will start there. Seeing as Crowley refuses to cooperate, we will have no choice but to locate those safe houses on our own. And, when we do, I will have my armies slaughter each and every one of those houses' occupants."

Crowley looked at Cas sharply, and then the King looked at Gail. "And how about you, sweetheart? Would you just sit by and let him?"

She appeared to consider his question for a moment. "You know what? I just might. We brought you here so that you could help us. If you refuse, we'll have no choice but to forge on without you, one way or the other."

Crowley glared at them. "You're perverting the Two Knights' Defense, you know," he grumbled.

"We're doing what to the what?" Gail asked her husband.

"The Two Knights' Defense is a misnomer," Cas stated. "It's actually a very aggressive game. White forces Black to give up a pawn, after Black invites him to attack - "

"Well, I didn't bloody well invite you to attack, did I?" Crowley said irritably.

"Actually, you did. You know very well that the current situation cannot be allowed to continue," Cas said, as calmly as he could. "If you're not part of the solution, then you must be part of the problem. You know how the Gambit continues: when White attacks, Black is surprised, and the game is on."

Crowley sighed. "Fine. Then what are you proposing, Castiel?"

"That you give us the locations of several of your safe houses that are near the others," Cas replied. "If our supposition is correct, and these assassins are moving like chess pieces, we should be able to identify the next target, with a small margin of error. We will set up teams at those houses, and lay in wait for the assassins' next attack." He gave Crowley an unpleasant smile. "But I'm not going to tell you ahead of time who's going where, or how many might be surrounding those houses. And rest assured, my family will not go unprotected. So if you have anything but assistance on your mind, I would think again, if I were you. We will capture the assailants in white, and we will get the information we need from them."

"The Budapest Gambit," Crowley mused. "I'm not surprised that's your game." He put his hand up, anticipating Gail's question. "That's an aggressive game too, sweetheart. Suffice it to say, the Budapest Gambit can shock opponents who don't know the theory behind the strategy. It doesn't have the finesse of the sort of game that I usually play, but it can be fun to indulge in, occasionally. If you don't mind running the risk of devastating consequences, of course. My lieutenant Rudy favoured that Gambit. You were acquainted with him, were you not, Castiel?"

Cas narrowed his eyes. Was that a threat? If Crowley knew, why didn't he just come out and say so? Or, was he on a fishing expedition?

"I think I've got something," Sam announced. He looked at Crowley. "If you'll give me one or two more locations within, say, a 50-mile radius of the corner of Exeter and Pattison, I should be able to narrow it down to the chess moves you guys think they might be using."

Crowley sighed. He leaned down and pointed to the map of the city that Sam had up on his screen. "Here, and here," the King told him. The Winchesters looked at him in surprise. "How many safe houses do you have here, anyway?" Dean asked him suspiciously.

"More than you might think," Crowley answered evasively.

"It's like cockroaches," Sam said, making a face. "You're better off not knowing how many of them are really in the walls."

Dean smirked. "Good one, Sammy."

After another half hour or so of brainstorming, it was decided: they would form two teams, and deploy them to both safe houses. After some deliberation and debate, it was decided that Crowley would be included on one of the teams. Cas would take Sam and Dean to one safe house, and Gail would take Frank to the other one, Crowley accompanying them. Gail popped over to her brother's house and got him, and because they needed Frank's services, he had left Rob in charge of his candlestick, telling Jody to call Cas or Gail immediately if an emergency arose. Cas hated to take Frank away from his family, but because the Winchesters were going with him, Frank was the most trusted individual Cas could think of to make sure Gail was protected. Then, Gail took Cas to their old room at the bunker and transferred the power back to him, but because he was still not cured, she had wanted to keep him and Crowley separated. So, this was their compromise. Also, like it or not, Crowley's powers were prodigious, and Cas knew that he had ways of taking care of otherworldly beings that Gail did not. The King had shown a fair amount of good faith by helping them to kill the would-be assassins outside the bunker, and then, by giving them the locations of the safe houses. Therefore, Cas was provisionally prepared to trust that he had Crowley's cooperation in the matter. But they were not going to tell the King that the transfer had been performed. Therefore, Crowley would still be under the impression that Gail continued to hold the powers of the Office, making him more reluctant to engage with her, should he have a double-cross on his mind. And Gail could always call Cas on their frequency if she needed his assistance, as she had done when her father had made his sudden visit to Quinn's place.

It was as good a plan as they were going to get. "Ready to roll?" Dean asked Cas. Cas gave Gail a quick kiss, and then he walked over to where Sam and Dean were standing. "Call me if you need me," Gail said to the men, maintaining the ruse for Crowley's benefit. Then she winked Frank and Crowley to the second safe house.

"Anything yet?" Gail asked Cas via their frequency.

"No, my love," Cas said, sighing. "I'm beginning to rethink the plan."

"Me, too," Gail told him. "Things are a little tense here, with Frank and Crowley and all those Demons. I don't know how much longer I'm going to be able to keep Frank from losing it, like Animal on The Muppet Show."

"I beg your pardon?" Cas said, puzzled. Despite the tension she was feeling, Gail smiled. "Remind me to add The Muppet Show to our viewing list. The movies, too. I think you'll really like them."

"Cas! Showtime!" Dean called out from the front room of the house.

"I have to go, my darling," Cas told his wife, and he disconnected.

Her pulse quickened, but she reminded herself that Cas had his Godly powers back now. The guys would be fine. She walked over to where Frank and Crowley were standing, eyeing each other warily. She had to admit that being here with the King had its perks, though. As soon as they'd arrived, Crowley had just snapped his fingers, freezing the occupants as he'd done back at the bunker. That way, she and Frank didn't have to worry about one of the Demons getting ideas, while the King's back was turned. Gail was pretty sure there wouldn't be any love for God's wife among those guys, or his brother-in-law, either. Fortunately, she didn't recognize anybody from the death squad days.

But Frank and Crowley had always had a very contentious relationship too, to say the least, and they had been sniping at each other ever since the trio had gotten here. Even though Frank was fairly certain now that Crowley had actually been telling the truth about not having ordered his parents' murders, Gail's brother still had a list of reasons to hate Crowley. If Cas said that they could believe that Crowley had not been responsible for Rob's shooting, Frank had told Gail that he would trust in his brother-in-law. But he had been giving Crowley the stink-eye ever since they'd gotten to the safe house, and Crowley was becoming annoyed. Nevertheless, the King was trying to maintain a civil conversation.

"I was glad to find out that young Rob has made a full recovery," Crowley ventured.

"Really? Were you?" Frank said coolly.

Crowley tried again. "I hear he's getting to be quite tall," he remarked. "They grow up so fast, don't they?"

"Despite your best efforts," Frank growled.

"Settle down," Gail said to her brother. "Cas told me there's activity at the other house."

"So we can leave? Great. It's been a slice," Frank said to Crowley, his voice heavy with sarcasm.

"Wait," the King said.

Cas hadn't really needed the Winchesters for help with the assailants; he'd needed their help to stop him from killing each and every Demon at the safe house. Crowley had popped over there as soon as he had frozen the Demons at the other safe house and done the same for theirs.

Crowley was gone now, but Cas had been pacing around the house restlessly, glaring at the frozen Demons.

"I could kill all of these abominations, with a simple wave of my hand," Cas was fuming.

"Not that we're not with you on that," Sam said with a half-smile, "but didn't you tell Crowley that if he helped us, and helped keep Gail and Frank safe, you would leave these guys alone?"

"Perhaps I lied," Cas said with grim humour.

"That's just your obsession talking," Sam remarked. "Take it easy, Cas."

"Yeah. One problem at a time," Dean had added. "I'd love to kill these Demon sons of bitches too, but we've gotta pick our battles. It's not worth starting a Holy War over, is it?"

Cas wasn't so sure. But, he appreciated his friends' support. "I'm going to call Gail," he'd announced abruptly, and he had walked away from the brothers.

Sam had looked at Dean with a brief grin. "Like somebody in AA calling his sponsor, I guess," he'd commented.

Dean gave him a double-take. "You have a weird sense of humour sometimes, you know that, Sammy?" But then he smirked. "Gail's got the rougher job right now, though. She's got to keep Frank from killing Crowley. THAT might be the Holy War, right there."

Then Dean had moved the curtains aside at the corner of the window, and he saw a dozen or so Demons dressed in white, approaching the house. Demons, not Angels. So whoever had told Crowley that Cas had ordered these attacks had definitely been lying. And he sincerely doubted that Crowley would have sent these guys to slaughter his own men, who would be sitting ducks, and then send God to the place. That meant there was a third party in play here.

"Sammy, check the back," Dean instructed his brother. "Cas! Showtime!"

"Check the window," Crowley instructed Frank crisply. "We're about to have company." He could sense the Demons moving in on the house.

Frank closed his mouth with a snap. Business now, hatred later. He looked out the window as instructed. "Demons. About a dozen. Dressed in white."

"There will be a like number approaching from the back, then, too," Crowley said. He withdrew the Demon knife from his pocket. "Feel free to kill a few, if you need to whet your whistle, Frank. I remember how much you enjoy a good killing," Crowley added snidely. Then he moved towards the back of the house.

"I'd love to whet my whistle on his designer-suited, crumpet-eating ass," Frank fumed angrily. He looked at Gail. "Are you up for this, kiddo?"

She smiled. "Don't worry, big brother. I'm good. Ask Dean what a great fighter I am now. He used to call me the Tasmanian Devil, when we were in Europe."

Frank edged over to the front door. "Believe it or not, I think they're actually just gonna walk in," he told his sister. "How stupid ARE these guys? Ready?"

"Ready," Gail confirmed.

Frank swung the door open.

Cas put his hand on Sam's arm, healing the stab wound.

"Maybe put a little extra, Godly 'oomph' on that," Dean said to Cas, wiping his knife on the shirt of the closest dead Demon. "He needs to bulk up a bit. He's let himself go since he's gotten a girlfriend."

"What's the waist size on those new jeans you bought, Dean?" Sam shot back.

"Doesn't matter, Squirrel, you'll always be sexy to me," Crowley said cheerfully. He and Gail and Frank appeared in the living room area, with half a dozen white-clad Demons in tow.

"Is that all of them?" Cas asked Crowley.

"No, there were two dozen, just as you reported that you had here," Crowley said. "I've got my staff holding the others prisoner back at the house, in case we need more subjects."

"Good thinking," Cas said dispassionately. "But, between those you have there and the ones we have here, I am reasonably sure we can get one to crack." He looked down at Gail, who had moved over to him to clean him. "Are you all right?" Cas said in a softer tone.

"All right? Holy crap, Cas, she's more than all right," Frank said, clapping Dean on the shoulder in greeting. "She even scared ME a couple of times." Then he looked at his hand, and he made a face.

Dean smirked. "Amateur. She always goes for Cas, first. Next time you grab me, make sure your sister's cleaned the Demon brains off of me."

"Demon brains?" Frank wisecracked. "There's an oxymoron, if ever I've heard one."

The Winchesters laughed, and then Frank looked at Cas. "I'm going home now, unless you still need me," he said to his brother-in-law. "I just want to make sure everything's OK there."

"Certainly, Frank," Cas said. "Don't hesitate to call me if you need me there. With any luck, though, we'll have this wrapped up by the end of the day."

"I'll be right back," Gail told the group. She grabbed her brother by the hand and popped him out.

Crowley looked at the empty spot where they'd been. "Well, Frank will never be my bestie, but I have to admit, he's one hell of a fighter," he said grudgingly.

"So, what's the plan?" Sam asked Cas, who was playing with his Angel blade now, turning it over in his hands.

"We talk to these Things," Cas said, indicating the white-clad Demons, who were huddled together on the floor, trembling, "and see who wants to tell us what we need to know."

"You can't kill us with an Angel blade," a Demon named Manny said. He was sitting on the floor near the end of the line and, unlike the others, he was smirking. Castiel could act as macho as he wanted, but there was no way Crowley was actually gonna let him do anything to any of them.

Cas smiled slowly. He walked over to where Manny sat, looking down at him. "And they told me that Demons were stupid," Cas remarked casually, with a hint of sarcasm. "You're quite right. I can't kill you with it. But, who said anything about killing you?" He flipped the blade in his hand to change the grip and then smacked Manny in the face, stabbing him in the neck and chest. Manny screamed in pain.

Dean made a wincing face. "Ooooh, that's gotta hurt." Frank was going to be sorry he had to miss the show.

Manny opened his mouth to try to smoke out, but when the black smoke started to issue from his mouth, Cas put his hand on it and pushed, forcing it back into Manny just as Gail reappeared in the house.

Cas snorted with derision. "I revise my earlier statement. Goodbye, Manny." He put his hand on top of the Demon's head, and the white light came out. Manny's skull caught on fire, and an instant later, his meat suit was a smoking heap on the floor.

Crowley frowned, looking from Cas to Gail and then back again. "Wait a minute. I thought - " the King started to say, but Gail shrugged. "Not anymore. Cas is God again. Just insurance, Crowley, that's all it was. You would have done the same thing yourself," she said to him.

He gave her a brief nod. Yes, he would have. Just because they were working together for the moment didn't mean they trusted him implicitly, he realized. They would be fools to do so. Nor did he trust them. Crowley had a few failsafes in place, should they be needed, including one very hot item he could use to blackmail Castiel with, if his hand was forced. Crowley knew all about Castiel's little arrangement with Rudy. The only thing he didn't know was whether or not Gail knew about it. But he wouldn't be particularly surprised to find out that she did. They said that love was blind, but that was an understatement when it came to the things that Gail was willing to overlook on her husband's behalf. But Crowley didn't think that Frank and Jody would be nearly as charitable.

"Unless you all want to end up like Manny, you had better start talking," Cas barked at the white-clad Demons.

"Are you just gonna stand back and let him do us like that?" one of them whined, looking at Crowley.

"What do I care?" Crowley said, shrugging. "The moment you became independent contractors, you ceased to matter to me."

"Who are you working for?" Cas asked the Demon. He raised his hand over Its head.

"I'll talk! I'll talk!" the Demon said, panicked.

A short while later, Cas and Gail, Sam and Dean and Crowley were back in the bunker, and they were strategizing again.

The story the Demon had told them was nothing short of astonishing. A man and a woman had been recruiting heavily on Earth, and they had been able to enlist a hundred or so Demons to form assassination teams in town. The Demons clad in black would be given the plum assignments of going after Castiel's family, knowing that he would assume they were acting under Crowley's direction. But then, just to be sure, the assassin Demons that were dressed in white would attack several Demon safe houses, leaving a few survivors behind to report back to Crowley that it was Castiel who was behind those attacks. The logic behind Castiel commanding Demons would seem at first blush to be outrageous, but Crowley would believe it to be plausible, because Castiel had pulled those kinds of tricks out of his bag before. Crowley's brother's loved ones had no idea what their Sainted Angel Castiel was capable of. None. But Crowley certainly did.

Therefore, whoever had been the Master behind the plan was obviously someone who had been around since Castiel's days as a General in the Angel Wars, someone who knew him fairly well. Someone from Heaven.

But then, had come the big surprise. The Demon had gone on to tell them that the guy had a partner, a very attractive, diminutive mortal woman, with flaming red hair.

Crowley had felt everyone's eyes on him, and he had let out a frustrated breath. He should have figured as much. His mother had obviously attached herself to another poor, unsuspecting bloke, one who was a powerful individual. For all her talk about "girl power", Rowena certainly seemed reluctant to do any of the actual heavy lifting herself.

"I'm going to assume that our mystery man is Raguel," Cas said to the group. "I know of no one else it could be, really. I suppose I should have realized it. When we were talking about chess strategies, the idea crossed my mind, but I dismissed it."

"That's because you were so busy accusing me," Crowley said archly.

Cas looked at him coldly. If he was expecting an apology, Crowley would be here a very, very long time. "You and I will go to this so-called headquarters," Cas told Crowley. "There, we will take care of the problem, once and for all."

"Do you want me to go with you?" Gail offered, but Cas frowned. "No. Raguel is an Archangel, and he is very dangerous. I will deal with him." His lips twitched once, just briefly. "The King can decide on the fate of his mother, once we get there. I don't believe you have any compunctions about removing her from the game board, do you?"

Crowley smiled grimly. "None at all." He would have loved the opportunity to kill Rowena himself, but due to the terms of the revival spell, he was unable. Which made Castiel his temporary best friend.

"Lead on, my Lord," Crowley said with some humour. Finally, the day had come. He was going to see Rowena die. With any luck, she would even stay dead this time.

But when they got to the headquarters, the only individual they found there was Gabriel. The only one alive, anyway.

"They were already gone by the time I got here," Gabe told the men. He didn't seem surprised to see the two of them there together. "All they left behind are all these Demon meat suits - " he gestured around the place, where dozens of dead Demons lay " - and that passage."

Gabriel pointed to the wall, where a message was written in blood. Crowley peered at the ancient Enochian. "You have been weighed and found wanting. Your Kingdom will come to an end," he read aloud. Crowley looked at Castiel. "Is he talking about you, or me?"

"Probably both," Gabriel stated. "Raguel doesn't discriminate. He hates everybody equally." He sighed. "I'm sorry, Cas. He must have un-shielded himself just long enough to lead me here."

Cas swore under his breath, and Crowley's lips twitched. "Well, on the bright side, it looks like it's Checkmate, at least for now," the King remarked. "On the minus, it looks like we'll be in bed together until we find those two." Crowley smirked. "Hope the missus doesn't mind. That is, unless she wants to snuggle in there with us. She was awfully sexy today, fighting those traitors of mine in the safe house. I don't mind telling you, I was a little turned on."

"I don't ever want to hear you talking like that about Gail again."

Crowley was looking at Cas, but surprisingly, it was Gabriel who had reprimanded him. The King was highly amused now. "That's extremely funny, coming from you," he said to the Archangel.

"Never mind," Gabriel said sharply. "Just leave her alone."

"Or what, Gabriel? What are you going to do about it?" Crowley said snidely. "How many years has it been now since you picked up a blade and actually used it on someone? Or are you just going to tell bad jokes until I beg for mercy?" Gabriel was silent, and Crowley laughed shortly. "That's what I thought." He looked at Cas. "We'll talk soon." Then he snapped his fingers and disappeared.

"What an ass," Gabriel said, rolling his eyes. He looked at Cas. "I'm sorry about Rob. Is he all right?"

"Yes, he's fine," Cas replied tersely. Then: "Where have you been?"

"Looking for Raguel and Rowena," Gabe answered. "I had no idea what they were doing, Cas. I'm sorry. If I had known..."  
Cas nodded, but of course, he wasn't going to press Gabriel for the remainder of that sentence. What exactly would Gabriel have done if he HAD known? To be brutally honest, the answer to that question was: nothing. Absolutely nothing. It was ironic, really. Castiel and Gabriel were getting along better than they ever had; yet, if Cas were to have to choose another Alpha male to stand with him against Raguel, he would have to pick Crowley.

"I have to get back to Gail," Cas said quietly, and then he waved his hand and vanished.


	4. Big Girls Don't Cry

Chapter 4 - Big Girls Don't Cry...

"I'm very proud of you, Cas," Gail told him as soon as they returned to their suite in Heaven. "You handled that whole situation with authority, but you didn't go nuts, either."

He gave her a tight smile. "Thank you, my love. Your idea to hold the power for me was a good one, though. I don't know what I might have done if I'd had it earlier."

"Well, it's a moot point now," she remarked. "The main thing is, there won't be a Holy War. I'm disappointed that those two got away, but their day of reckoning will come. Listen to me, talking like an old-time Angel," she said, smiling. "But I'm pretty content about this whole thing, Cas. Nobody else got hurt. Well, nobody important, anyway. Just a hundred or so Demons. What do you call a hundred dead Demons? A damn good start."

Cas laughed softly, pulling her towards him. "And I am extremely proud of you, too. You have proven yourself to be an equal partner to me, in every sense of the word."

Gail smiled warmly. That was an extremely high compliment, coming from him. How far they had come from the early days of their relationship, when Cas used to take off to Heaven by himself, and she used to sit at home, like the "little woman".

"Do you think you'd like to burn that piece of the ark now?" Gail asked him.

Cas thought about that for a moment. He was grateful to Noah for having said what he'd said at the end of their visit to the Seniors' Centre. Cas had certainly run the gamut of emotions when it had come to the Flood. But now, he realized that he was about as at peace with it as he was ever going to get. He nodded.

"While you stay with me while I do it?" Cas asked her.

"Of course I will," Gail told him.

Cas opened the box and put the sliver of cypress wood in his hand. He closed his fist around it and then closed his eyes for a moment, reminiscing. It had been such a stupid, careless mistake, but it had been just that: a mistake. The Father had known that there had been no malice on Castiel's part, and now, Noah had forgiven him. It was time that he forgave himself.

Cas opened his eyes and then pointed a finger at the piece of wood, igniting it. An instant later, he waved his hand, and the ashes were gone.

"How do you feel?" Gail asked him quietly.

Cas took her hands in his. "I feel fine, my love. In fact, I feel wonderful."

"How do you feel about the Holy War?" she persisted.

Cas began to smile. "In the words of Bobby's youth, I feel that I would like to make love, not war."

Gail smiled. "I think we might be able to do something about that. Unless you think we might be setting a bad example."

Cas's smile faded. "Why? Because Patricia claims that she nullified our marriage?" He reached out to touch her face. "That means nothing, Gail. If you want, we can have another ceremony. In fact, we can have one every year. I had something like that in the back of my mind, anyway. I was going to suggest that we renew our vows on a regular basis. I think it would be very romantic. But, I put no stock in what Patricia said, and I hope you don't, either. That was a truly awful incident for all concerned, but, like the Flood, I'd like to put it behind us now. Hopefully, Patricia will get the help she needs, and I am now cured of my obsession. We will remain vigilant, but I am certain that the attacks are over; at least, for the time being. We will find Raguel and Rowena, and we will deal with them accordingly. But, for the moment, I will go back to the Garden, and I will do my job. Are you going back to sit on the board?"

She was thoughtful. "I guess so. I think we'll have to have a few moving parts for a while, though. Depending on how many suicides you send, I might just move somebody from that committee to the main board until Chuck gets back. I want to be available to help out, when Jody has her operation."

Cas frowned. "You know that, if there was anything I could do in that regard - "

"I know, Cas," she said softly. "Cancer is just a part of life, sometimes. It's an awful, sucky part, but...the main thing is to get it out of her, and then to make sure it's gone. A lot of middle-aged women are diagnosed with breast cancer. If they caught it early, she should be just fine."

And while that was true enough, there was so much more that Gail wasn't saying. How the hell did she know if they'd caught it early? She thought back a few years, when Jody had received the wonderful results that the results of the mammograms that Gail had accompanied her to were negative. But now, apparently that status had changed. This was going to be hard on Jody. She was a vital, active woman. First would come the surgery, and then she would probably have to undergo chemotherapy, or radiation. Would she lose her hair? How weird would that be? Gail couldn't even imagine what that would be like, or what it would be like to suddenly have just one breast. Would you look lopsided? Would you feel disfigured and ugly? Jody was a strong, kick-ass woman, but she was still a woman. What would it feel like to get undressed and look at yourself in the mirror? What would it feel like to be making love with your husband like that? Would it gross him out? Or would you even be able to feel sexy anymore?

"Would you still love me if I only had one breast?" Gail blurted out. "Would you still want to make love to me?"

Cas regarded her calmly. He'd wondered when that question was going to come up. His darling wife. She'd been an Angel for a number of years now and she had come a long way, but she still thought like a human in many respects. Maybe that was because they were around humans so much of the time. Also, in terms of celestial beings, she was still by and large a novice. How could he put into words what he wanted to say to her now?

He took her hand. "You are you, and your light shines bright," Cas told his wife, "but it's your essence that makes you who you truly are. You occupy a vessel, and because it's the same vessel you've had for your entire existence, it still feels like...you. But it really isn't, Gail. Not anymore. You occupy a higher plane now. When you and I are making love, we're making love to each other, as we really are. Our vessels are just a means to an end, if you will. They are just flesh, and nerve endings. The sensations they allow us to feel are very pleasurable ones, but in many ways, the pleasures of the physical are very one-dimensional. Do you remember our wedding night, when I showed you my true form?"

Gail nodded. Of course she did. How could she ever forget? When she had laid eyes on Cas as he truly was, his real beauty had been nothing short of astonishing.

Cas smiled warmly at the reminiscence. "That was the most intimate, most loving experience I've ever had," he told her. "And it didn't even involve our vessels. It was our minds, our hearts, and our souls that were interacting. Therefore, to answer your question, it is YOU I love, not the clothing you are wearing. Does that make sense?"

What he'd said was thoughtful, beautiful, and lyrical. It was moments like this that reaffirmed to Gail why she loved Cas so much. She told him this now, and he brought her hand to his lips and kissed it tenderly.

Still, Gail was Gail. "Well, all I can say about that is: You sure picked one hell of a gorgeous outfit," she quipped.

Cas laughed softly. "I'm glad you approve." He took her in his arms and kissed her on the mouth. "And, now that I have given that speech, I'm going to refute everything I have just said," he added. He winked them into the bedroom.

"I could just wave my hand and take our clothes off, but I'd like to take my time, if that's all right," Cas said in her ear. Then he smiled. "That is, until you tell me to hurry." He gave her earlobe a little lick, making her quiver. Then he kissed her on the mouth again, using his tongue to open her lips.

She gave him her tongue in return, and she could feel him lift her top and caress her skin. "I love your soul, but I'm very happy it comes in such a soft package," Cas murmured, and Gail smiled. "I love your soul, too, but I'm glad it comes in such a hard one," she responded mischievously. She ran her fingers down the front of his pants, and he pressed himself against her hand.

Cas went as slowly as he could, but a few minutes later, Gail gave him the sign. And he was glad, because it had become increasingly more and more difficult for him to show restraint. He waved his hand, and the rest of their clothes came off. Then he lifted her leg over his shoulder and entered her immediately. This was a different angle than she was used to, and it felt exciting. She was able to watch him as he pushed into her. Her leg was bent at the knee, where he was holding it up with his hand. He pushed forward, hard, and kissed her knee at the same time.

"Come here, please," she said, and he released her leg. She wrapped herself around him, holding him close. "I love you, sweetie," she told him, and then she smiled. "You have the sexiest set of clothes I've ever seen."

They both laughed, and they continued to make love.

Sam was sipping at his beer, staring straight ahead at the bookshelves.

"Hey! Earth to Sammy!" Dean exclaimed.

Sam came out of his reverie. "Sorry, what?"

"I'm talking to you, here. I was asking you when Jody's operation is. What did Frank say?" Dean said, with a touch of irritation.

Sam frowned. He'd been thinking about a lot of things, including that. But when Dean had interrupted him, he'd been thinking about that whole thing with Raguel and Rowena and the Demons. There was just something about it that was bothering him. He guessed he should just let it go. Things were peaceful again now. Cas had popped back that day to collect Gail, and he'd told them that there shouldn't be any further attacks. Apparently, Raguel had killed the remainder of the black-and-white-clad Demons, leaving them there at the headquarters for Cas to find. But Cas hadn't mentioned the bloody handwriting on the wall when he'd told them the news, figuring that was just between him and his erstwhile Brother.

And Cas had been right; the attacks had stopped immediately after that. But Sam was still puzzling over it. Why had the Demon who'd shot Rob and Gail and Dean that day been wearing red? No one had ever been able to answer that question to his satisfaction.

But Dean was asking about Jody, now. "Tomorrow morning," Sam answered his brother. "He says she's gonna be pretty much out of it all day long. But he said he'd call with an update."

Dean took a long haul on his beer. Cancer. What the hell? That had been weighing on his mind, ever since Jody had told them. They had known her for years, longer than a lot of their other friends. When they had first met her, she had been a Sheriff, a no-nonsense young woman just getting her feet wet on the job. A lot of people thought of Dean as being a bit of a male chauvinist pig, he knew. And in his younger years, he was pretty sure he had been one. But he was aware of how hard it must have been for Jody to be the woman boss of a bunch of young, macho male cops. Then, when she had made the Winchesters' acquaintance, there was the added component of the kinds of cases they caught, and the fact that they often had to skirt the law to do what they needed to do. But, eventually, Jody had been let into the loop, when her husband and son had fallen victim to the monsters that had been preying on her town at the time. Then Jody herself had become a Hunter, and eventually, she had become family. Then Gail and Frank had come along, then Rob, and now little Angela. Jody was one of the strongest, most resilient women Dean knew. No, check that. She was one of the strongest PEOPLE he knew, man or woman. He was relatively sure she was going to come through this with flying colours, like she always did. But, Dean was looking at Sam now. Sammy was younger than Dean was, but neither of them was in their 20s anymore. Sometimes, Dean got up in the morning and his whole body was sore. And that wasn't even after being drunk the night before, or exercising vigorously. Sam's gibe about the waist size of Dean's pants had cut a little close to the bone, because Dean could feel that he had gotten a little thicker around the middle. When they were at Jody's birthday dinner, the jokes had been flying fast and furious about aging, and Dean had been making a lot of those himself. But many days now when he had had a few the night before, he found himself taking an antacid and a couple of Advil, then sitting in one of the chairs by the TV and falling asleep sitting up, like an old man.

Cancer. It was unbelievable. Maybe it wouldn't be a monster, or a Demon. Maybe it would be a heart attack, or a stroke. Frank had mentioned that he was making an appointment to go see a doctor to get his prostate checked, and that at their age, Sam and Dean should, too. Holy crap. Dean felt like he was in great shape, but with a thing like that, you never knew, did you? Jody'd said she felt great, too.

Dean and Sam continued to drink in silence, each man lost in his own thoughts.

Cas and Gail were talking about Jody again, and now, Gail was having a bit of a cry. She was having the same realization that Dean was currently having: that any one of their human family could get sick at any time. However, if they did, even if they died, wouldn't they just become Angels, like Gail herself had? And would they not just come to Heaven, then?

"Not necessarily," Cas had told her, as sensitively as he could while still being honest. "I may be God, but I can't control where some of them may go. For instance, Dean was in Hell when our Father sent me to get him, and he was a Demon, albeit briefly, when he was under the influence of the Mark. Sam was addicted to Demon blood, before the Apocalypse nearly happened. And Frank was a Knight of Hell, at one point, killing for Crowley. Therefore, there are no guarantees."

That was when the tears had started to form in Gail's eyes. "But why, Cas? They didn't do anything wrong, not really. Dean made a bad deal to save Sam at the time, Sam was tricked by Ruby, and Frank was Crowley's victim! And look at all the good that all of them have done since! How would that be fair?"

But Cas had nothing to say to that, because he knew that she was just venting, now. They all knew that life was a lot of things, but it was never promised to be fair, and in fact, it seldom was. All that any of them could do was the best that they could do. Even God. Maybe especially God.

So Cas had cuddled his wife extra close and murmured words of love and reassurance to her, because that was really all that he could do. Whenever anything like this happened, devout people would talk about the situation as being "God's will". But why on earth would it ever be God's will for good people to contract painful, debilitating diseases? Why? Why? That was the question that most people wanted an answer to. But there were no answers, not really. People prayed to God in times like these, and they were puzzled and hurt, or angry, when they did not get the answers that they were looking for. Cas understood that. Boy, did he understand. He'd had many of those same kinds of feelings himself. If the Father were here, He would be able to cure Jody just by looking at her. Take that burden from her. But hadn't it been God who had marked his own Son for death, way back when? And why had He done that, anyway? Because He'd thought it was going to make a difference? Well, here they were, untold millennia later, and people were planting bombs, and shooting up nightclubs. What the hell had been the point, then? What was it now?

Cas held Gail while she cried, and when she stopped, they talked a bit more. Then they made love one more time, and Cas put everything he had into the physical act of love, as if by doing so he could reassure her that everything would be just fine. And she clung to him, knowing that there was no way he could possibly know that, but appreciating it all the same.

Then when morning came, they showered and dressed for the hospital.

"I want to talk to Cas alone, for a minute," Jody said.

Frank and Gail and Rob all looked at her, and then at each other. "Come on, I'll buy you guys some crappy hospital coffee," Frank said, and the trio left Jody's room.

Jody perched on the edge of the bed, and Cas drew up a chair beside her.

"What is it, Jody?" he asked her softly. "Would you like me to hear your confession?"

She was startled. "What? No!" Jody screwed up her face. "You're my brother-in-law, Cas. How weird would THAT be? No, I just wanted to ask you a few questions."

Cas looked at her sadly. Here it came: Could he cure her? Or, if not, could he at least assure her that she was not going to die? He was God, wasn't he? Surely he must have some control over the situation.

But Jody surprised him. She didn't say any of those things. "I've decided to try to approach this whole thing like it's an investigation," she said instead. "I've got the medical data; now, I need other information." She took a deep breath. "I need to ask you about life after death, Cas." He opened his mouth to say whatever it was he was going to say, but Jody held up her hand. "No, Cas, let me get this out. Remember, this is an investigation. A fact-finding mission. I'm not planning to die any time soon. I've got one helluva lot to live for. So don't worry, I'm not giving up. Hell, the fight hasn't even started yet. I just need to know if you know: Would I just become an Angel, like you and Gail and Bobby and the whole merry bunch are now?"

"Do you want the bottom line, Jody?" Cas asked her softly.

"Of course I do," she said, with a bit of an edge to her voice. "I think we know each other well enough by now. I don't want any b.s. 'Angel answers', Cas. I need to go into this thing with my eyes wide open."

Cas nodded. He would expect no less from Jody. They may not know each other that well on a personal level, but Cas knew her better than she might think. All of his years of quiet observation had led him to notice quite a few things about Jody. How she entered a room with a subtle air of dignity, and authority. How the men settled down whenever she admonished them. And how fully capable she seemed, in any situation. He had seen her kill monsters and Demons, cuddle and feed her baby, and fix small appliances around the house. And Cas was almost certain that, if pressed, she could probably pretty much do all three at the same time. Jody was a remarkable, formidable woman, and she was a cornerstone of their family. And, as such, he owed her the truth.

"Then my answer is: Probably," Cas told her. "And before you accuse me of giving you an 'Angel answer', let me assure you that it is the complete truth, as I am able to give it. I don't know the details of how you lived your life before you came into our circle, and that is none of my business. But from what I know of you, I'm certain you're not destined for Hell. It is my belief that you will go to the Garden, to be processed for ascension. But, you could also go to the Netherworld."

Jody was startled. "Why?" she asked him sharply.

"Due to your contribution in ridding the world of Lucifer, or simply because of your familial relationship to me," Cas said frankly. "That would be Death's decision, not mine."

"So, what are the choices, Cas? Or ARE there any?" she inquired.

"For the individual in question, there are none," he said, with no inflection in his voice. He was Castiel now, compartmentalizing any emotions he might be feeling so that they could get through this conversation. "You will have absolutely no say in the disposition of your soul."

"But if you live your life the right way - " she started to say, but Castiel interrupted her. "Not necessarily," he intoned. "Once your soul is marked, it can no longer be considered yours."

Jody was annoyed now. "Cut the budget horror movie crap, Cas. Are you honestly telling me that our whole lives don't mean anything, here?"

"Of course not, Jody," Cas said, agitated. Castiel retreated now as Cas, her brother-in-law, saw that Jody was upset. "No, that's not what I'm saying at all." But in a way, that WAS what he was saying; he was just trying not to say it. "It's just that...once you leave the confines of Earth, and humanity, your existence ceases to matter. You're a part of something much, much bigger than yourself, Jody. Suddenly, the things that concerned you in mortal life are unimportant."

"Like your family?" Jody said, giving him a baleful look.

"Yes," he answered automatically.

"That's pretty funny, coming from you," Jody said sarcastically. "I'd love to be a fly on the wall when you go out there and tell Gail she's unimportant. Go ahead. I'll wait."

"That's not what I - "Cas said sharply, and then he took a deep breath. Jody was having major surgery in less than an hour. He shouldn't be upsetting her. She'd said she wanted the truth, but the truth was that most humans couldn't handle the truth.

Jody sighed. She'd been contemplating asking some other questions, but now she could feel the motivation draining out of herself. If these were the kinds of answers she was going to get, she should probably just save her energy for her recovery.

Cas felt badly for Jody, and he felt sad that he couldn't give her the comfort she was seeking. But the Father hadn't supplied any of them with those kinds of answers. As Dean might say, the information was way above Castiel's pay grade. Which was curious, because Cas actually WAS God, now. For the first time, he was starting to understand the frustration that Bobby must have felt when he'd first taken the job. And Cas knew much more than Bobby ever would, due to Cas's Exalted status and his length of service. Their Father had always played His cards very close to the vest. That was probably where Cas had learned his reticence from in the first place.

"I'm sorry, Jody," he told her sadly. "Actually, the bottom line is this: I may be God, but I don't have any autonomy when it comes to the question of where souls go when people die. I can only sort them. That's a very important distinction. But I don't know why we're talking about this anyway, Jody. You're going to be just fine. I'm sure you are. Whatever we can do to help you, all you need to do is ask. You have a whole host of Angel friends, starting with Gail and myself, on down. I wish I could take this burden from you, Jody. But, we can help in many other ways. Babysitting, shopping, transportation...whatever you need. Please don't hesitate to ask."

"OK, Cas." Jody sighed again. That would have to be good enough. "Can you go get Rob and Frank, and ask them to come back in here?"

"Of course." Cas rose from his chair, and then he leaned forward, giving her a gentle kiss on the forehead. "That's from me, and from Gail, too," he told his sister-in-law. "Remember, if you need anything, call us. Please."

"I will, Cas. Thanks," Jody said.

A few minutes later, Frank and Rob came back into the room.

"I don't want to get all weird, here," Jody told them. "Any minute now, the doctor is going to come in here and tell me to get undressed, and then they're going to prep me." She looked at Rob. "I don't want you to freak out," she told her son. "Come here, and give me your hand."

Rob sat on the bed next to his mom, but he put his head on her shoulder instead. "I'm not freaking out, Mom," he said, but he was fighting back tears now. "I just wanna make sure that you're going to be OK."

Jody put her arms around her son and gave him a squeeze. "I'll be fine, Rob. I promise you, I'll be fine."

"Sure you will," Rob said. "Uncle Cas just blessed you." Yeah, Jody thought. You could say that, in a way, she supposed. But Rob was still young. Although he was nearly as tall as Frank was now, and his voice was just about as deep, Rob didn't have the jaded attitude of his dad, or of any of them, really. And that was the whole point of his going to Vancouver to intern at the newspaper. If Rob was exposed to a different kind of life, maybe he would choose to have a different kind of life. Maybe one where he didn't get shot by Demons. In any event, if her kid preferred to believe that Cas had given her some kind of magical Godly health booster shot, or something, that was fine with Jody.

Rob kissed her on the cheek, and Jody gave him another squeeze. "Now remember, you promised," she said to her son. "Once I go into surgery, you're gonna go home, get your stuff, and fly to Vancouver. Then you'll call your Dad as soon as Tommy picks you up, to let him know you got there safely. He'll give you an update on my condition then. Tommy told me he's already picked up a cell phone for you, so you can reach your Dad any time you need to. But I don't want you calling every five minutes, either," she continued sternly. "You're going to have a job there at the newspaper, so you have to make sure to do what they say, when they say to do it."

"I know, I know," Rob said good-naturedly. "Dad already gave me that lecture."

"OK, well then, let me give you a different one," Jody said. "I want you to go up there and enjoy life, Rob. Work hard, and help those guys out around the house, just like we taught you. By all means. But I also want you to make some friends your own age. I want you to go to Whistler, and to Stanley Park. Have bonfires, go to the PNE, and ride the roller coaster. Park the car and take the bus or the SkyTrain sometimes, just to keep yourself grounded. Meet a girl. Save your money and take her out to a nice place. But not TOO nice; we don't want her to be too high-maintenance," Jody smiled. "Have a few beers and let it all hang out, every once in a while. Just make sure you don't drive while you're doing that, and don't sass the cops."

"I get it, Mom," Rob said, nodding. Because he was his father's son, he fought the urge to make a joke at this point. Something about Canadian beers and polite cops, maybe. But he could tell that this meant a lot to his mother, so he reined it in. "I promise, I'll do all of those things, and more," he told her. "I'll send you so many pictures on Facebook you're gonna want to Unfriend me."

Jody smiled again. "I highly doubt that. Just make sure you don't send me anything too incriminating. I know a couple of guys in the RCMP."

Rob smiled too. "OK, Mom. Don't be such a narc."

"There. That's the kind of talk I wanted to hear," she said, nodding her head. "Normal smartass teenage talk." She hugged her son, giving him a kiss on the forehead. "Now, scram. Go wait with Cas and Gail. Your Dad and I want to make out for a few minutes, before the doctor gets here."

"Ewwww. That's gross," Rob said dutifully.

"You won't think so, the first time you do it," Jody quipped. "Now get out of here."

"I love you, Mom," Rob said, throwing his arms around her. "Please promise me you'll be OK."

Jody pressed her lips tightly together. She'd kept from losing it as long as she possibly could, but the kid was killing her now. "Go see Cas and Gail," she said in a thick voice. She hugged him once more, and then, mercifully, he let go of her and left the room.

Frank had been watching the two of them silently, and he was dangerously close to tears himself. But he had a job to do now, and it was to give comfort, not receive it. Luckily, all of his years of taking care of Gail had prepared him for his role. He walked over to the bed and sat down beside his wife, taking her hand.

"So are you gonna bawl like a baby now, or what?" Frank said to Jody.

She laughed, sniffling back the tears. "I was considering it," she told him. "But I noticed you're about to beat me to it."

"Yeah, well..." Frank put his arms around his wife. "I guess I've been hanging around Cas too long. Lord help me."

"Isn't that redundant?" Jody quipped.

"There you go," Frank said with a tight smile. He kissed her, and then he said, "I'm not sure how you need me to be here, Jodes. You know how I am. I've got so many boob jokes running around in my head right now, it's ridiculous. But this is uncharted territory for us. Part of me really wants to make those jokes, but the other part of me wants to pull a gun on whoever comes into this room to take you away from me and into that operating room."

Jody nodded. She completely understood. "And part of me wants to let you do just that," she told him. "But maybe save the boob jokes for when I'm recuperating. I'll probably need a good laugh, then. From everything I've read, it's not exactly a walk in the park."

"Hey, look on the bright side," Frank blurted out, unable to help himself. "If you keep your hair short, I won't have to hold it back for you when you puke."

"What I hear you saying is that you love me very much, and you'll be there for me no matter what," Jody retorted, but she did so with a smile.

"Good, because that's exactly what I AM saying," Frank said softly. His arms tightened around his wife as he kissed her on the mouth.

"Do you want to feel me up just one more time?" Jody murmured.

"Hell, yes," Frank replied, kissing her again.

They kissed and cuddled for a few more minutes, and then Jody pulled gently out of the embrace. Bless her husband for knowing her well enough to know that she didn't want to cry. "I love you, Pookie," she said, her lips twitching.

"I love you, too," Frank responded immediately. Then he raised an eyebrow to her. "Can I have one? Please? Just one?"

Jody rolled her eyes. "You're such a child."

Frank grinned. "I know. But, you married me. On purpose. So, when you think about it, the rest is really on you."

She shook her head slowly. "All right. Just one."

Frank continued to grin. "From now on, if I want to touch two boobs, I'll just go to the bunker and shake hands with Sam and Dean."

Jody burst out laughing. She had been expecting something different, maybe a little bit more juvenile, but that one had been surprisingly good.

Dr. Glover came into the room. "It's good to see you laughing," he told Jody. "A sense of humour helps in the recovery process."

"Well, you've come to the right family," Frank said affably.

"We've got to get you prepped for surgery now," the doctor said to Jody.

Frank gave his wife another hug and kiss. "Cas and Gail are gonna take me and Rob home and get him all ready to go. How long is the operation going to take, Dr. Glover?"

"A modified radical mastectomy usually takes about three hours or so," the man responded.

Frank nodded. "OK. That'll give us enough time." He hugged and kissed Jody again. "I'll come back here after we see Rob off, so I'll be here when you wake up."

"OK, OK. Now, quit slobbering all over me and go help our son pack. If I know him, and I do, he'll have packed twenty books and only one pair of underwear," Jody said.

"That's okay," Frank said, smiling tightly. "Once Barry gets a hold of him, Rob's gonna get a makeover, whether he likes it or not. The next time we see him, he'll probably look like he's stepped out of GQ Magazine." Then he paused for a moment. Was he really going to just walk out of this room and let them take his wife away and butcher her? But what was the alternative? Let the cancer inside her grow, unchecked? "I'll see you soon, Babe." Despite her protest, he gave her another kiss, hugging her tightly. Jody clung to him for a moment, and then she let go. Frank left the hospital room, not looking back.

Rob stood over Angela's crib, looking down at his sleeping baby sister. Bobby had left the nursery a minute ago with a stern warning to Rob not to wake Angela up. She'd finally stopped fussing and gone down for her nap. Angela hardly ever fussed; she was usually a happy, gurgly baby. Maybe she was picking up on the tension that was surrounding their house right now.

"I wish you were older, so we could talk, like Dad and Aunt Gail do," Rob said to her softly. "I'm going away for a few months, to have a few - what did Mom call them? - 'life experiences'. Whatever. I'm not too thrilled about it, in a way. I feel like I'm leaving just when she needs me the most. But she pulled some kind of 'life is short, and I've got cancer' crap on me." He winced. "That sounded harsh. It's a good thing you have no idea what I'm saying. I don't know how Dad does it. He can say the most outrageous things, and people just laugh. I guess it's a talent."

Rob sighed. "I love you, Angela. By the time you're old enough to walk and talk, I'll be back. Then we'll be best friends, like Sam and Dean, and Dad and Gail." He leaned down over the crib and gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead. She stirred, and opened her eyes. "Crap," Rob said softly. But Angela didn't start to cry. She just stared up at him with those big, dark eyes. Just like Gail's, Frank had said. Rob tickled her tummy with his index finger and she laughed, then grabbed his finger with her tiny fist. "Rob," she said.

Wait, what? "What? Did you just say my name?" he asked her. But she just smiled up at him. Rob sighed. "That figures," he said softly. "The one time there's nobody around to hear. 'Bye for now, Sis."

He picked up his carry-on bag and left the nursery, using the side door of the house to exit. Then he walked down to the sidewalk in front, where everybody was congregated.

"Is she still asleep?" Bobby asked Rob. "Yup," the young man said, crossing his fingers behind his back. He put his bag down. "'Bye, Grandmaster B. Watch your computer for alerts. I might not be able to play as much as I used to, but I'll keep in touch."

"You do that, Son," Bobby said in a voice that was gruff with emotion.

Rob reached out to hug him, and Bobby said, "Ya know what? You can go back to Grandpa, if you want. I kinda like it."

"OK, Grandpa," Rob said, pulling out of the embrace. "I'll see you around."

"We'll all be getting together for Christmas," Gail said.

Christmas? Bobby thought. That sounded so far away. But he supposed it wasn't, not really. Time had a habit of flying by. Wasn't it just a day or so ago that Rob had been running around the bunker, playing with action figures? Now he was a young man, flying off to a different country to start a new way of life. Bobby had a lump in his throat big enough to choke a horse.

"If you need any refresher courses, give me a call," Dean said to Rob. "Hopefully, they don't drive on the wrong side of the road there, or something." He smirked.

"OK, number one, that's stupid. It's Canada, not Europe. And number two, if they do drive on the wrong side, all he has to do is go in reverse," Sam wisecracked.

Dean rolled his eyes. "I've said it before, and I'll say it again: you have a weird sense of humour, Sammy. Hey, Rob, come here for a second." He put his arm around the young man's shoulders and steered him away from the group. "I want to give you some free advice. Never eat at a diner called Mom's, never buy a condom from a vending machine, never order one of those fruity drinks with an umbrella if you're trying to pick up a girl - no, check that, just don't do it, period. And I don't care how much you like your pop music, or that hip-hop crap or whatever, never - and I mean, never - fast dance with a girl. Once you do it once, she'll expect you to do it all the time. And no guy looks good fast dancing, Rob. Trust me on that. But slow dancing, on the other hand?" He elbowed Rob. "Nudge, nudge, wink, wink, say no more. Remember that?"

"Yeah, Uncle Dean." Rob smiled, shaking his head slowly. One time at the bunker recently, a group of them had been talking about things that people found funny. A few of their Angel friends had been there too, and Ethan had been insisting that Monty Python was hilarious. So he had had Sam search for that particular skit on YouTube, and they'd all watched as Ethan laughed uproariously. Of course, ever since Cas had brought his wife and son to Heaven, Ethan had been laughing and smiling a lot more, about everything.

"Sorry, Ethan. Not funny," Dean had told the Angel after a couple of minutes. "Sam, find the Stooges. This guy needs to see what real humour looks like."

Sam had obligingly brought up a video of the Three Stooges, and he turned the laptop back around so that everybody could see it.

"Oh, look," Gail had quipped. "Frank and Sam and Dean are on YouTube."

"Who's Moe?" Frank asked aloud. "I want to be Moe."

"Sorry, but I'm Moe," Dean retorted. "You're more of a Larry."

"That makes Sam Curly? Well, he's got the luscious locks for that nickname, anyway," Frank joked.

"Ohhhh, a wise guy, eh?" Sam said in a funny voice, playing along.

Gail rolled her eyes. "Oh, brother. Well, I guess it's my fault. I got them all wound up." She shook her head in wonder. "What is it about those Stooges? Every guy I've ever met thinks they're a riot, and every woman on Earth can't stand them. Am I right, Jody?"

"Yeah. They're stupid," Jody had agreed.

"What do YOU think, sweetie?" Gail had said, touching Cas's arm. "Do you think they're funny?"

Cas had been staring at the screen, expressionless, studying the video. Dean snorted with derision. "What are you asking HIM for?" he said to Gail. "We all know he's gonna automatically side with you."

"Not necessarily," Cas had said slowly. "I believe that I can see the intrinsic appeal of the humour."

"Thanks for that insightful analysis, Doctor Chuckles," Dean said sarcastically, but then he had shrugged. "But hey, at least you didn't say they were stupid. So I'm gonna call that a win for our side. Congratulations, Cas. I guess you're a man, after all. If you want, you can be an honourary Stooge. You can be Shemp."

"Shemp?" Cas had said curiously. "That's an unusual name. It sounds almost Biblical."

Gail had thrown her hands up in frustration. "Great. Now my husband's a Biblical Stooge. How proud am I?" she'd said, her voice heavy with sarcasm.

Rob laughed now, remembering that day. What a strange, funny family they had. He loved them all. "I'm gonna miss you, Uncle Dean," he blurted out.

"Yeah, well...If you need any advice on the ladies - "

" - Don't call him, call me," Sam interrupted his brother, shouldering him out of the way. "Anything Dean will tell you would probably just get you a slap in the face. His pickup lines are about as out-of-date as his musical tastes."

Rob laughed again, and then Sam's expression turned serious. "You have a chance to get out, Rob. I know that you love your dad and look up to him, but please, give another kind of life a chance, at least," Sam said earnestly. "You're the first one of us that's ever had a choice. Do you know what a big deal that is?"

The young man nodded. "Yeah, Uncle Sam," he replied. "Yeah. I do."

They hugged, and then Sam said, "One more thing: don't ever let anyone make you feel like a freak just because you're different. You've got special talents, things that other people don't have. They're part of you, and they're part of what makes you unique. Don't let anybody tell you otherwise, OK? And, do me one more favour, Rob? Pick up a book, once in a while. Girls like a guy with a brain. Trust me."

Rob smiled. "OK, Uncle Sam." Then he laughed. "I remember when I was a little kid, I thought that was really funny. 'Uncle Sam'."

Sam clapped him on the shoulder, smiling a crooked smile. He had a lump in his throat now, too.

Rob moved on to where Cas and Gail were standing. "I'll still pray to you every night, Uncle Cas," Rob said. "I can do that from anywhere. Please look out for my Mom, OK? She needs all the blessings you can give her, right now."

"Call me if you need anything," Cas said. He extended his hand for a shake, but of course, Rob moved in for a hug, instead. Cas embraced the boy, smiling gently. "Your parents can be very proud of you," he told Rob. "You've turned out to be a fine young man."

"Thanks, Cas," Rob said, coming out of the embrace. "Oh, and don't worry about not being able to find my first mom. She'll be found soon. The lady you really have to find is Gail's mom."

Cas and Gail exchanged a glance. They were used to this coming from Rob by now. But it was funny that he should bring that up. Gail had been meaning to talk to Cas about the subject, once they were sure that Jody was going to be OK.

Rob moved to Gail now. "Thanks for the transfusion," he said to her, and his lips twitched. "Does that mean I'll be able to do Angel stuff now?"

Gail smiled. "I'll tell you what. Go to Stanley Park, pick up a stick, and practice. You never know." She took his hand. "I'm confused, now. I don't know whether to call you my nephew, or my brother. We're getting dangerously close to being a hillbilly family, here," she quipped.

"Wrap it up, Elly May," Frank said dryly. "Rob's flight leaves in a couple of hours."

"Who's Elly May?" Rob asked Gail, a puzzled expression on his face. She laughed. "Don't worry about it." She gave him a hug. "Give those guys our love, will you? We'll all have to find an excuse to get together, soon."

Rob came out of the embrace, looking closely at Gail's face. "You guys have to get the Book of the Dead before our father does," he told her, lowering his voice. "If he gets it first, we're all screwed."

Gail's eyes widened. "How do we do that?"

"Start at Cathy Scanlon's office," Rob told her. "I've gotta go." He went to the passenger side of the Charger, threw his bag in the back seat, and got in.

"I'm going right to the hospital after I drop Rob off," Frank told everyone, moving to the driver's side of the car. "If anybody wants to reach me, that's where I'll be. I'll call one of you with an update, as soon as I have one. Bobby, are you OK to stay here with Angela for now?"

"Yeah, of course," Bobby said in a husky voice. "I'll stay here for as long as you need."

"OK, we'd better go, then. 'Later," Frank said. He got in the car and a moment later, they drove away.

Everyone stood there until the car turned the corner, out of sight. There was an awkward silence, and then Bobby harrumphed. "Well, I'd better get back inside and check on Angela."

Gail moved over to him and put her hand on his arm, giving him a gentle kiss on the cheek. "Call me or Cas if you need a break," she said to him. She could see the tears standing in his eyes, and she wanted to run interference for him in case the boys were going to give him a hard time.

"Thanks, dear," Bobby said, patting her hand. "I will." Then he walked up the driveway to the house.

"I guess we'll get going, too," Dean said in a subdued tone. "We'll see you later, Elly May," he said to Gail, and she smiled tremulously, appreciating his attempt at humour. "I love you guys," she blurted out, giving both Dean and Sam hugs.

Then the brothers drove off, and Cas and Gail walked to the usual spot in the back yard of Frank's house, and winked themselves away.

"Passport? Laptop? Underpants?" Frank was asking Rob at the Gate.

"Dad!" Rob protested.

"What? Your mom wanted me to ask," Frank said innocently.

"You're embarrassing me," Rob said, smiling.

"You know what I'm gonna say about that, don't you?" Frank said. "'That's my job, kiddo, that's what I do'," they both said, simultaneously.

"Jinx. You owe me a Coke," Rob said softly.

Frank patted his pockets. "I seem to be fresh out of those. So, how about this, instead?" He brought out an envelope which was stuffed full of money, handing it to Rob.

"Dad," Rob protested again. "We talked about this. I'm gonna get a job. You need that, for Mom's medical expenses."

"Cas is taking care of those," Frank said, pressing the envelope into Rob's hand. "You take that. You're gonna need it. Vancouver's expensive. Especially if you want to get a girlfriend."

Rob smiled. "OK, Dad. OK." He pocketed the envelope.

"Call me as soon as you get there," Frank said. "We don't want your Mom to worry."

"How are YOU doing, Dad?" Rob said softly. "Are you OK? I can stay, if you want me to."

"No, we want you to go," Frank insisted. "Your Mom's right. You've gotta go out there and live life, kiddo. Sam was right, too. None of us ever got to choose. I'm not going to stand here and tell you that you shouldn't be a Hunter, if that's what you really want to do. But we want you to weigh your options, first. Will you do that for us, Rob?"

Rob looked at his Dad. The young man realized, once again, how lucky he was. When his Dad had been a teenager, even younger than Rob himself was now, he'd had no choices at all. He'd had to run from town to town, always looking over his shoulder, killing monsters at night and trying to keep himself and Aunt Gail alive by day. Wow. Rob couldn't even imagine that. They'd all been through a lot together, and they were still going through some stuff. But, ever since his father Mark had killed his mother Felicia and Frank and Jody had taken Rob for their own, Rob had had every advantage. He'd been a little snothead there for a while, but his Mom and Dad had never given up on him. Neither had Sam and Dean, or Bobby, or the Angels. Even Cas. When Rob had basically blamed Cas for the year-long separation from his parents, and then for the fact that they'd all had to go back out on the road after that, Cas had calmly accepted Rob's rebuke. Even though it had been Lucifer who Rob had really been mad at. Had Rob ever apologized for that, to any of them?

"Thanks, Dad," he said now. "Thanks for everything." Rob pulled his Dad to him for a hug.

"I need to be thanking you," Frank said, his eyes blurring with tears. "You, and Angela, and your Mom. You're the best things that ever happened to me. You saved me. All of you. I would have been lost if you hadn't come along. I love you, son. I love you so much."

"You're leaking all over me, Dad," Rob said lightheartedly. He came out of the embrace, but he was wiping his own eyes, too. "How am I supposed to impress the cute girls on the plane with water stains all over my clothes?"

Frank sniffled back his tears. "You'd be surprised," he said, trying to smile. "Never underestimate the appeal of the pathetic loser. That's how I got your mother." He sniffled again. "Now, get going. You've got a plane to board, and I have a hospital to get back to. If your mother wakes up and I'm not there, I'll never hear the end of it."

Rob wiped his eyes with his shirt sleeve. "Don't tell her I did that," he said to his Dad, and they shared a bittersweet smile, remembering the first time that Frank had joked with his son about that very thing. Rob bent down and picked up his travel bag with one hand, and his laptop with the other. "Do I have to check these?"

"Of course not. Those are carry-ons, my wayward son," Frank quipped.

But the humour was lost on Rob, who of course was way too young to remember that song. Nevertheless, the young man smiled. "'Bye, Dad," he said, and he turned around and walked through the Gate to board his flight.

A couple of days later, Gail walked into Jody's hospital room carrying a plastic bag.

"You just missed your brother," Jody said. "I sent him down to the gift shop to see if they have any decent magazines. I'm getting bored as hell, but Dr. Glover wants to keep me one more day."

"I may have the solution to your problem, right here," Gail said, indicating the bag she was holding. "You can write with your right hand, can't you?"

"Yeah," Jody replied. "The left arm's unusable for a while, but luckily, I'm a righty."

"Good," Gail said. She reached into the bag. "I have a colouring book in here, and a bunch of coloured pencils."

Jody shifted in the bed, sitting up a little straighter. She'd just taken a hit of morphine from her drip, so it didn't hurt to do that. It was funny; she'd arrested druggies all her life as a cop, but now that she had a morphine drip, Jody could almost see the appeal of being a drug addict. Every time you felt a twinge, you just pressed a button, and the pain was just magically erased. Plus, she felt a lot calmer on the stuff, too. Even Frank's jokes were funnier.

But she raised an eyebrow to her sister-in-law now. "Really? A colouring book? Not that I'm ungrateful, but isn't that a bit juvenile?"

Gail smiled. "So what's wrong with a little juvenility, every once in a while? Wait, is that a word? Anyway, I think you might change your mind, once you see the subject matter." She pulled the colouring book all the way out of the bag, approaching the bed as she did so. "Get a load of this."

Jody peered closer. "You've gotta be kidding me."

"Nope," Gail said cheerfully. "I'm not. It's a Supernatural colouring book. Unfortunately, it's a bit of an older one, so Bobby and I aren't in it. But still, you've got Sam and Dean and Cas. Even Crowley. Murder and monsters, mayhem and weapons. Everything you could ever ask for in a colouring book. Oh, and look - " She laid the colouring book gently on Jody's lap and reached back into the bag. "I got a bunch of different shades of red, pink, and purple. You can draw in wounds, and blood and guts. Or, put horns and fake moustaches on the guys. Anything you want. Maybe draw a dress on Crowley. He could stand to switch it up, every once in a while. Or, put one on Cas. This is the older iteration of him, when he wore that same suit and trenchcoat, 24/7. I'll always feel nostalgia for that outfit because it was what he was wearing when we first met. But, let's face it: bo-ring. Maybe put him in a nice ballgown, or something." She looked furtively up at the ceiling. "Sorry, sweetie."

Jody barked out a short laugh. "Sorry," she said to her sister-in-law. "If I laugh too much, my chest hurts."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Jody," Gail said, stricken. "I'll try to keep the jokes to a minimum. But you know how Frank and I are." She gestured to the colouring book. "Too bad HE'S not in there. Feel free to draw him in, though."

The two of them smiled at each other. "Thanks," Jody said.

"How are you feeling, Jody?" Gail asked the other woman. "Are you doing okay?"

Jody gave a half-shrug. That was pretty much all she could give right now. They'd taken her left breast and five lymph nodes from her left armpit. She was glad it was her non-dominant side, but still, it hurt like a son of a bitch between hits of morphine. When she went home, Dr. Glover said he was going to switch her to the strongest painkillers they had that were a step down from morphine, and then slowly wean her off those. She didn't quite know if she was ready for that. Maybe when Sam and Dean got here later, she would have them bring a few weapons and pull a morphine heist.

"I'll be all right, Gail," Jody replied. "It's a process. That's what they tell me, at least."

"Yeah, and I'll bet the people who are telling you that are all men, too, aren't they?" Gail said, making a face.

"What do YOU think?" Jody retorted good-naturedly. "Of course they are. These jokers tell me that men get breast cancer too, and I'm sure they even do, sometimes. But I have yet to meet the man who has to worry about how to wear a bra afterwards, or whose breasts identify him as a member of his gender. Let's cut off one of his balls, and then we can talk on an even level." She sighed. "That probably came out badly. Let's just say it's the morphine talking. Actually, it probably is. That stuff's pretty kick-ass."

"Well, I hope you're able to have some fun with the colouring book, anyway," Gail said, putting the plastic bag on the nightstand. "Do you need anything before I go?"

"Not a thing," Jody said. Suddenly, she felt herself tearing up. "Thanks, Gail. Thanks for not coddling me. Thanks for all the little things you've been doing for me. And the big ones. I know Cas already paid our hospital bill in full, and I know he talked to Dr. Glover about covering the chemo and all the drugs I'll need, too."

"Hey, we're Angels," Gail said softly. "That's what we do."

"Who's an Angel?" Frank said from behind her. "Tell me, so I can call the National Enquirer." He looked at Jody. "Which is just one of the scintillating periodicals I saw downstairs, by the way."

"Where are my magazines, then?" Jody asked her husband.

"Well, I had a bit of a dilemma, there," he replied. "You're a woman, but you're not a girly woman. So, things like Vogue and Ladies' Home Journal are out. But I couldn't exactly go the Sports Illustrated route, either. Maybe Guns And Ammo? As our close buddy Crowley might say, 'Pick a bloody side!'"

Jody smiled. "Funny you should mention him. Come here and look at what your sister got me."

Frank grinned, leafing through the pages of the colouring book. "Man, I have GOT to get me one of these," he remarked wickedly.

"Maybe, if you're really good, Santa will get you one for Christmas," Gail told him. She approached Jody. "I've got to go. I've got a board meeting to get to. Cas sends his love. We'll check in on you later." She gave Jody a quick kiss on the forehead, and then winked out.

"Let's pick out a really good colour for the dresses we're gonna draw on these guys," Frank said gleefully, making Jody laugh. But this time, it didn't hurt.

Cas was uneasy. "Are you certain you don't want me to go with you?" he asked Gail. The last time, when he had left her to go to Quinn's with the Winchesters to talk to Oliver, her father had shown up out of the blue to menace them all. Gail had stood up to Vincent as best she could, but ultimately, Cas had had to show up and use his Godly powers to intimidate the man into leaving.

"How many souls are left in the Garden, Cas?" she asked him.

He was puzzled for a moment. "What? Why? Millions, I imagine."

"That's my point, right there," she remarked. "If you have to hold my hand every time I go to Earth, none of those poor people are ever going to be ascended."

Cas sighed. She was right, of course. "But I like holding your hand," he said charmingly.

Gail approached him, putting her arms around his waist. "You are the cutest person in existence," she told him.

Cas embraced her and kissed her on the lips. "No, I'm fairly certain that would be you," he murmured.

"We'll have to fight about who's cuter later on," she said with a smile, "preferably in front of the guys. It'll drive them nuts."

"So you are simply going to Cathy Scanlon's office? That's all?" Cas asked her, and Gail restrained herself from rolling her eyes. "Yes, Cas. I'm going to the bunker, and then I'm going to pop Sam and Dean over there with me. They're going to try to talk her into cooperating, and hopefully she'll tell us where we can find my mother, or Andy. I'd also like to know why Rob's file was cross-referenced with another one, and maybe figure out who his birth mother was too, if he wants to know. But when Rob left for Vancouver, he said that her office was the place to start, and I think he's right."

"What if she will not cooperate?" Cas fretted.

"Then I'll search her mind," Gail replied. "I know how to do that now, as you know. Actually, I could probably just go there and do that by myself, but I know how worried you get. That's why I asked those guys to go with me. But if we can get her to give up the information willingly, so much the better."

"Well, I don't really like it, but..." Cas sighed, tightening his arms around her for a moment. "Just promise me you'll call me if there is any trouble. Any trouble at all. Please, Gail."

"OK, Cas, I will. I promise. Now give me a really good kiss, and then go liberate those souls."

Cas gave Gail a knee-trembling kiss, and for an instant, she was sorely tempted to ask him to come, anyway. But he had a higher calling, and she would just have to suck it up.

She touched his face and then winked out of their suite, before she could change her mind.

The trio walked into Cathy Scanlon's office in their FBI suits, looking serious-faced and professional.

"Good day, Ms. Scanlon," Dean said, reaching into his pocket. "Agents - "

But Cathy interrupted him. "I know," she said testily. She remembered the extremely tall man with the longer hair from before. He had been here with another FBI agent, a while back. And the woman looked familiar, too, although Cathy couldn't quite place her at the moment.

"I don't know why you're here," Cathy said, tight-lipped. "I already told you, my records are confidential."

Sam pulled a copy of the pages from Gail's file out of his pocket and dropped them on her desk. "Records like these?" he asked bluntly.

Cathy paled. "Where did you get that? I - " She looked up at him in astonishment. "Are you the one that broke into my file cabinet?"

"Yes, and it wasn't easy, either," Sam replied, his lips twitching. "You may have noticed you're missing a ruler from your desk. I guess I owe you a couple of dollars for that."

"You're not FBI, are you?" she said suspiciously.

"Well, look who just caught on," Gail said sarcastically. She moved over to the office door and locked it, pulling the blind down to cover the window.

"What's going on, here?" Cathy said warily. "Who ARE you people?"

Dean sighed. "Man, if I'd known we were gonna go in hard, I wouldn't have put on the monkey suit."

"Let's just say we're concerned individuals," Sam said to the woman. "We're just here to get some information, that's all. We need to know if you can tell us the whereabouts of a few people."

When Sam told her who they were looking for, Cathy's heart sank. They were after Vincent, and his children. She should have known. She looked at Gail again, and suddenly, Cathy realized why she recognized her face. Vincent had been very interested in this woman and her husband when they had come in a while back, claiming they were desperate for a child. But she didn't remember what had happened after that. But, this was bad. Vincent needed to know that these people were snooping around. It was a good thing she had cleaned out the file cabinet as soon as she'd discovered that it had been tampered with. She had tried to call Vincent as soon as she'd made the discovery, but he hadn't answered his cell phone. So, panicked and not knowing what to do, Cathy had taken the box of files to Abigail's house, telling the woman to stash them there until they could figure out a more secure place to keep them. Abigail had been her usual weird, passive-aggressive self, but she had told Cathy that she could put the box in the basement.

"I can't help you," Cathy mumbled, and Dean said, "Don't give us that, lady. We know you know a lot more than you've told us. We read Oliver's journal."

She looked up sharply. Journal? She'd had no idea he kept a journal. Where would they have gotten their hands on that? She looked at Gail again, and her blood ran cold.

"You're Baby Gail, aren't you?" Cathy asked her in a hushed voice.

Gail's lips twitched. She couldn't help it. "Well, it's been a long time since anybody called me a baby anything, but...yes. I am. We were hoping that you could help me find my birth mother."

Oh, God. Oh, crap. What was Cathy going to do? "You don't understand," she pleaded. "You don't know what he'll do to me if I tell you anything."

"He doesn't have to find out," Sam said earnestly.

"He'll know," Cathy said glumly. "He always knows." But now, suddenly, she had another problem. Her hands were starting to itch. She started to rub them together, trying to take away some of the discomfort. "You're going to have to leave now, or I'll call the cops. The real ones," she added dryly.

"What's up with your hands?" Dean asked Cathy, making a face.

She looked down at them. Her skin was dry and cracked, and her veins were becoming engorged. Oh, no. How long had it been? Too damn long, obviously.

"I have to make a phone call," Cathy said in a quavering voice. She picked up the phone, but the numbers were blurry to her now. Oh, my God. It was happening. "Damn him," she muttered. "He's just going to let me die."

"Who? Vincent?" Sam asked her. "Has he been keeping you alive with a special drink, maybe?"

Cathy looked at him, shocked. "How did you know that?"

"We know a lot of things," Gail said. "But there are also a few very important things we don't know, and that's where you come in."

But Cathy was starting to get the feeling that she was actually going to go out, instead. After all the times that Vincent had threatened to withhold her "youth shake", it appeared that he was finally following through on his threat. He must not need her any more.

Cathy reached into her desk drawer for her purse. She was having trouble working the clasp. Her hands had curled into claws now, and they were wrinkled, and trembling. Finally, she fumbled the small makeup mirror out of her handbag and peered at her face.

Gail looked at Sam and Dean, and they looked back at her, open-mouthed. The theory was one thing, but seeing the transformation happen right before their eyes was something completely different. When they had first walked in here, Cathy had been a plain-looking woman with a round face and clear skin, who they would have guesstimated to be about 35 years old. Now she was a wrinkled old hag, with veiny hands and rheumy eyes.

"I don't think I have long," Cathy told them, after the shock of confirming her appearance in the mirror. "I gave the files to Abigail. But I don't know if you should take this any further, Gail. He's got plans for his children." She coughed weakly.

"How do we kill him?" Sam inquired.

"You can't," Cathy said in a strangled voice.

"What do you mean, we can't?" Dean said angrily. "Everything can be killed."

"As long as any of his children live, so will he," Cathy said quietly. "If all but one of them were to die, he may be weakened enough to kill, but until then, he will thrive. Don't cross him, or he will make you pay, family or not. He's an evil man, with no morals." She started to cough again, and now, her head was starting to swim.

"Where is Abigail?" Gail asked Cathy, but the woman slumped in her chair and closed her eyes.

"Cathy? Cathy!" Sam exclaimed. He rushed forward, behind the desk, and touched the woman's neck, feeling for a pulse. Then he grabbed her arm, trying to get one on her wrist.

"She's dead," he told the others.

"Dammit!" Gail said, stamping her foot in frustration. She felt badly for the woman, in a way. But quite frankly, this had been some really poor timing. It was the same thing in nearly every movie she had ever seen: the person always died before you got the chance to get the really important information from them.

Suddenly, Cathy drew a deep breath, sitting up straight in her chair. "God sent the Red Demon after you," she said in Vincent's voice, looking at Dean. Then her face twisted into a grotesquely jolly expression as Vincent's deep laugh issued from her wrinkled lips. Then her body slumped again, and as Sam touched her to re-check her for vital signs, Cathy's body shriveled up into a pile of dust.

"Wow. Looks like somebody forgot to put on moisturizer this morning," Dean quipped. Sam and Gail both turned to look at him. "What?" the elder Winchester said. "If I was Frank, you guys would be laughing."

But Gail didn't feel like laughing now. She had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. Sam was looking at her curiously now. "CAS sent the Demon who shot you guys?" he said, incredulous.

Crap. She sighed. "It's a long story, Sam."

"We've got time," he retorted.

"Can we just - " Gail started to say. Then she stopped herself. Dean was staring at her too, now, with raised eyebrows. "Look, you guys, I promise you we'll talk about it," she told them. "But in the meantime, I don't know about you, but I really don't want another sudden guest appearance from Dear Old Dad. It was bad enough we had to see and hear that." She gestured to the chair where Cathy had just been sitting a couple of minutes ago, a living, breathing person. Now, the woman could be picked up with a dustbuster. How bizarre was Gail's life, anyway? Of course, it could always be worse. At least she wasn't Cathy.

"Sam, can you see if you can find anything on this Abigail woman in Cathy's computer?" Gail asked him. "Dean, come in the back with me, and we'll go through the filing cabinets. I want to see if we can find something on her. An address, or anything. We don't even know her last name."

Sam leaned over the keyboard and began to type, while Gail hurried into the back room where she and Sam had been before. Dean trailed after her.

They started going through the file cabinets. "So? Are you gonna tell me what the hell's going on?" Dean fumed.

"I told you, it's a long story," Gail said uncomfortably.

"So, Cas puts out a contract on us and I'm supposed to just shut up about it?" Dean said through clenched teeth.

"He didn't - " Gail was frustrated beyond belief. Why the hell should she have to stand here and defend what her husband had done? "Just a minute." She sent a message to Cas on their frequency, stressing that it wasn't an emergency, but it was important: could he please come as soon as possible?

A minute later, they could hear Cas's voice in the front office. "There's nothing here," Gail said disgustedly, slamming the drawer shut. She and Dean went back out to the office area.

Cas rushed over to her. "Sam was telling me what happened here. Are you all right?"

"She's fine," Dean growled. "Bullets can't kill Angels, can they?"

Cas was confused. Sam had only had time to tell him that Cathy had died, apparently of extreme old age. That information hadn't particularly shocked Cas, because he had remembered what they had already speculated about Cathy. But then, what was Dean talking about? "Was someone shooting at you here?" he asked them.

"Demon? Red hoodie? Ring a bell there, Chief?" Dean said sarcastically.

Cas's heart sank. He looked at Gail again, but she shrugged. "Don't look at me," she told him. "Dear old Daddy told them, before he reduced Cathy to ashes. But now that they know, I figured these guys were owed an explanation. And I thought, just for a change, it should come from you," she finished tartly.

Cas was dismayed, but he realized that she was right. He was the one who had made the arrangement with Rudy, so the onus was on him to try to explain. He sighed. "Let's leave here. We can go to the bunker, and I will explain," he told the brothers.

"Did you find anything?" Gail asked Sam.

He straightened up. "Nothing. If she ever had anything about Abigail in there, or Vincent, she must have purged her files. I tried a couple of things, but I'd need hours, and I don't even know if I could break the code for her deleted files. I'm good, but I'm not THAT good."

"OK, let's go, then," Gail said. "We'll have to figure something else out." She reached out for Sam's hand, but Cas said, "You don't have to do that." An instant later, they were in the bunker. Oh, right. She had forgotten.

"So how do you justify sending a Demon to shoot your own family?" Dean raged at Cas. "Go ahead, I'm listening."

"I had a disease, Dean," Cas said pleadingly. "It wasn't supposed to shoot anyone. It was merely supposed to give you the alleged message from Crowley."

"It was merely supposed to - " Dean started to say, but he was so angry and incredulous that he lost his words for a minute. He looked at Gail. "You knew about this?"

"Don't shout at her, Dean," Cas said wearily. "She didn't know anything about it, not at first. And when she found out, she was as angry as you are now."

"'When she found out'?" Dean repeated. He looked at Gail again. "Why? When did you find out?"

"I don't know, Dean," Gail said, avoiding his stare. "Last week, sometime."

"When were you gonna tell US?" he exclaimed.

"With any luck, never," she retorted. "Everybody's fine, Cas is cured, and the assassination attempts have stopped. There was no need to tell you. And I don't know why you're talking to ME about this, anyway. You have a really annoying habit of talking to the wrong person at the wrong time. Talk to Cas; he's the one who pulled the stupid stunt in the first place."

"All right, I will," Dean shot back. He looked at Cas. "Explain to me in what universe it's okay to put your family in danger just to get what you want."

Cas opened his mouth, then closed it again. The fact was, he couldn't. His actions had been inexcusable. Now that Cas had been cured, he could see that clearly. As Gail had said, everything was fine now, so Cas had compartmentalized what he had done, putting his feelings of guilt into a closet in his mind's house and slamming the door shut on them.

"You make me sick," Dean said bitterly. "Some God you are. You nearly got Rob killed, Cas. And I could've died too, if I hadn't reacted quick enough. I thought we meant more to you than that. You're always saying we're your family. Well, you're a damn liar. What if that Demon had pulled out an Angel blade and stabbed your wife in the chest? Don't give me that bullshit about having a disease. All the years I've known you, you've always known the difference between right and wrong. You crossed the line, Cas."

"Dean- " Cas started to say, but Dean held up his hand. "No, Cas. Don't. Just...don't." Dean looked at Sam. "I'm going for a drive." He turned and walked down the hallway. A minute later, they heard the door that led to the garage area slam shut.

"Well, that was a good talk," Gail quipped nervously, making a face. She looked at Sam. "Go ahead, Sam. Have at it. Now that Dean's gone, you have the floor."

Sam was frowning, looking thoughtful. "Believe it or not, intellectually, I understand what you did, Cas."

"You do?" Cas said, surprised.

"Yeah," Sam said coolly. "Intellectually, I said. Your obsession with the Holy War was the most important thing to you. More important than your family, or your own wife, even. You tell us you're cured? Great. But I'm disappointed in you, Cas. Really disappointed."

Cas hung his head. Somehow, Sam's calm admonishment was even harder to take than Dean's angry explosion.

"But we have bigger problems right now," Sam added. "Cathy said that Vincent's gonna remain immortal as long as his kids are alive. So, even if we find Abigail, and find those files, what are we supposed to do? Murder all of his kids?"

Dean had gotten a few miles down the two-lane highway before he heard the siren. Crap. He looked in the rearview mirror, and the cruiser was just about up Baby's butt now. Double crap. He'd been blasting the music, driving on automatic pilot. Trying to work out his anger towards Cas. Trying to find a way to be OK with what his best friend had done. So he had put some Metallica on, cranked it up, and put the pedal to the metal. Dean was generally a Zeppelin guy when he was in a good mood, but when he was pissed off, it was Metallica, all the way.

That probably explained why he hadn't heard the siren, not until the cop car got close. Dean pulled over to the side of the road beside the ditch to let it go by, but unfortunately, the cruiser came to a stop behind the Impala. Dammit. He tried to remember the last time he'd gotten a speeding ticket. It had been quite a while. Which was a miracle, considering how much speeding he actually did. Maybe Cas had been looking out after him. Dean started to smile, but then he remembered that he was mad at Cas, so he stopped.

Officer Heatley leaned down and looked at the guy who'd been speeding along ahead of him. The car hadn't been going all that fast, relatively speaking. But he hadn't written any tickets in a while, and an e-mail had been sent to everyone at the station that the mayor was trying to raise money for some projects around town. Blah, blah, blah. Heatley didn't really care about politics. But the bottom line was that every cop was expected to increase the amount of tickets they wrote.

"Sweet ride," the officer said to Dean.

"Thanks," Dean said cautiously.

"Can I see your license and registration, please?"

"Yeah, sure." Dean got his wallet out of his back pocket, then reached over to the glove compartment and took out the registration papers. He gave them to the officer, continuing to watch the man's eyes. Not black. So far, so good.

"You realize you were going around 10 or 15 miles over, right?" Heatley said, holding the papers in his hand.

"Yeah, I guess so," Dean replied. "Sorry. I'll ease up." The guy seemed decent, and his eyes still weren't black. Maybe he wouldn't give him a ticket, after all.

But Heatley looked at the name on the paperwork now, and it sounded familiar to him. "Wait here, Sir," he said formally. He started to walk back to the cruiser with the license and registration papers still in his hand.

Dean sat there, thinking. This was probably just a routine check. He and Sammy rarely got stopped, but even when they did, these days they were legit. Dean no longer used an alias on his personal ID, because aside from the occasional federal crime of impersonating FBI Agents, he and Sam were clean. Thanks to Cas, they no longer had to acquire funds illegally. Recently, Cas had topped up their account without any prompting from them or fanfare of any kind, and now they would never have to worry about money again, for the rest of their lives. Cas to the rescue, again. Maybe Dean should give his friend a call, and just hash it out. Talk a bit more. Hell, if Dean could forgive Sammy for drinking Demon blood all those years ago, he guessed he could forgive Cas for making a bonehead move like he had made. They'd all done stupid things before. Dean himself had been a Demon there for a while, bar-hopping with Crowley. Stupid. And Dean hadn't even given Cas a chance to explain. Not that there was any excuse, of course, but at least, they could talk some more. And maybe Dean owed Gail an apology. If she'd found out about it after the fact, then there was nothing she could have done about it, either. He smirked to himself. If he knew Gail, she would have given Cas holy hell when she'd found out, as it was.

Officer Heatley had done his radio check and gotten the information he needed, and he was approaching the Impala from the back now. The subject was sitting calmly in the driver's seat, but Heatley was taking no chances. He'd called for backup, but he'd better act quickly, or Dean Winchester might just decide to drive away.

The Officer pulled his sidearm and rushed over to the driver's side of the car, pointing it at Dean. "Please exit your vehicle, Sir. Do it slowly, keeping your hands where I can see them."

Dean's forehead wrinkled. "What's this all about?"

"Please exit your vehicle, Mr. Winchester," Heatley repeated. "I'm not going to ask you again."

"OK, OK," Dean said, putting his hands up in supplication. This cop was young, and he looked like he might have an itchy trigger finger if he felt threatened. "I'm just gonna take the keys out of the ignition - " he started to say.

"Stop right there!" the cop said, raising his voice. "Step out of the vehicle, right now!"

Crap. Dean eased the door open and stepped out of the car.

"Put your hands behind your head and lean against the car," the young cop instructed Dean, his heart hammering in his chest. He'd never arrested a killer before.

Dean looked at him incredulously. "How am I supposed to lean against the car if my hands are behind my head?" he asked, quite logically.

"Never mind, just turn around," the officer said impatiently.

"What's going on?" Dean said again. "What's this about?" He was staring at the guy's eyes, but they still weren't black. Still, he wasn't sure if he was comfortable with letting this guy cuff him. There was nobody else around. But what was his alternative? He didn't want to get shot. Again. Dean sent a very loud, expletive-ridden prayer to Cas, telling him where he was.

"You're under arrest for murder," the young officer said and now, Dean could hear sirens approaching from the north. Damn it. He'd almost rather the guy was a Demon.

Minutes later, there were five cops there with guns drawn, and they were bundling Dean into the back seat of one of the cruisers, reading him his rights. He sent an amended prayer, asking Cas to bring Sam here to get Baby, and then to get their asses down to the police station. All was forgiven, but bring bail money. And maybe the number of a good lawyer, while they were at it.

VIGNETTE - ...THEY ONLY GET STRONGER

Gail had prevailed on Sam to give her and Jody a ride to the mall. Cas and Bobby were still sorting souls, Frank was at home with Angela, and Dean was still in jail. Jody had insisted that she could drive, but she was undergoing chemotherapy now, and she tired easily. Also, the treatments sometimes made her violently ill at short notice. So Gail had asked Sam to help out. Dean's arraignment hearing was coming up tomorrow, and Sam had been going a little crazy anyway, just hanging around the bunker.

There was a new initiative that was being tested in the local law enforcement community, to fast-track those murder cases that were considered "simple". Since Dean had only been charged with the one murder, his was considered a good test case.

Cas had been inconsolable when he'd received Dean's profanity-laden prayer that day. This particular bad decision of Cas's was the gift that kept on giving. Just when they'd thought that there would be no further repercussions from what he had done, Cas got the call. Dean had been arrested for the murder of the young human girl who the Demon that Rudy had sent to accost the group had been occupying at the time. Dean had advised them that It had smoked out of the body just as he was stabbing It with the Demon knife. Apparently, there had been an eyewitness to the crime, and he had picked Dean out of a lineup once he'd been brought to the police station.

They'd been to see Dean in jail, of course. When he'd first been arrested, Cas had brought Sam and Gail to the lockup. The sergeant at the front desk had advised that he could only have one visitor, though, so Sam had gone through to talk to his brother as the Angels waited outside. Then Sam had come back out, advising that he would provide the bail money for his brother now, if the sergeant could tell him how much it was.

But Sergeant Thorpe had looked at him incredulously, and then he had barked out a short laugh. "Your brother has been charged with a capital crime, Mr. Winchester."

"Yeah, but isn't he at least entitled to bail?" Sam had shot back. "What about 'innocent until proven guilty'?"

"What about it?" the Sergeant had said coolly. "Mayor Dixon was elected because he promised to get tough on violent crime. Murderers stay in jail until their trial these days."

"My brother's not a murderer," Sam said through clenched teeth. "When I was pre-law, we were taught that there was such a thing as due process. This is still America, isn't it?"

"Pre-law. What a surprise," Thorpe said sarcastically. "Well, if you love due process so much, feel free to come to his arraignment hearing and convince Judge Pike that killers - sorry, 'alleged' killers - deserve to be let out of jail, to walk among an unsuspecting public. Good luck with that. The mayor appointed Judge Pike specifically to be part of his program. He's known as the Hanging Judge, and he especially hates crimes against women and children. He and I have that in common. So, sorry, Mr. Winchester, but your brother is the county's guest until his arraignment hearing. And don't get your hopes up about that, either. Everybody who goes up in front of our esteemed Judge gets bound over for trial. Every single person. So maybe you want to go home and bone up on those lawbooks." Then he had pointedly opened a file on his desk and looked down at it, dismissing Sam.

The trio had gone back to the bunker and tried to brainstorm, but they couldn't come up with anything workable. The initial thought, of course, was just to have Cas pop in there and remove Dean from his jail cell. But, then what? Dean was an accused murderer now, and his name and photo was on the computer. So if he went anywhere, anywhere at all, he ran the risk of being recaptured. Then, if and when he went to trial, it would go much worse for him when it came out that he had "escaped". Technically, Dean was innocent of the crime, he had argued to Sam in the lockup. And he was too old to go on the run from the cops. He would take his chances with the hearing. There hadn't been anybody in that alley, just him and Gail and that Demon. Oh, yeah? Sam had retorted. Then why was Dean in jail right now?

But Dean had stubbornly insisted that he would rather take his chances, so here they were, one day before his arraignment hearing. Hanging Judge or not, Sam had been cramming, looking at lawbooks he hadn't looked at in years, preparing to argue bail for Dean. His brother's record was clean, and he had never been in trouble with the law before. The latter point was a bald-faced lie, of course. But the fact that Dean was presently being held in just a simple jail cell, and allowed to receive visitors without having to wear handcuffs and shackles, gave Sam hope.

"Thanks for the ride, Sam," Jody said, easing out of the back seat. Sam remained where he was. The first time he'd given Jody a ride, he had hurried over to help her out of the car. But she had glared at him, telling him to back the hell up. She wasn't an invalid, just a cancer patient, and she could get out of a damn car all by herself.

Cas had been distressed to hear that Sam had been taking Jody places in a car. A car! When she had him, and Gail, and a dozen other Angels she could call upon at any time? But Gail had gently told Cas that she had tried to wink Jody over to her chemo appointment once, but Jody had been violently ill afterwards. Chemo made Jody extremely nauseous at the best of times anyway, but teleportation apparently made it all that much worse. So they were sticking to ground transportation nowadays. Cas had understood, but he was still distressed that he couldn't help in some way.

Cas spent a lot of time being distressed these days. Besides Jody's situation, there was Dean's. Cas was directly responsible for Dean being in jail, and the guilt was slowly eating him up inside. Dean refused to let Cas teleport him out of jail. When Cas had gone to visit his friend, Dean said that he had forgiven Cas, but it was hard for Cas to forgive himself. But both Sam and Dean seemed to think that Dean would be released from jail after the arraignment hearing, pending his trial. So there was nothing that Cas could really do about that, either. And he and Gail were spending more time apart these days, as their individual responsibilities necessitated. Gail was burning the proverbial candle at both ends, serving on both boards in Heaven, volunteering with Liz at the seniors' centre, and helping Jody and Frank on Earth. Cas had gone back to the Garden, throwing himself into his work, the same as Gail was doing. The situation wasn't quite as bad as it had been when they'd both been campaigning for the High Office, but it was still very difficult for him to cope with. Gail claimed, as Sam and Dean did, that she had forgiven Cas for his dealings with Rudy. But ever since Dean had been arrested and jailed, she seemed to be busy doing all manner of things without Cas, and sometimes when they spoke, he could hear a trace of coolness in her voice.

"We'll give you a call when we're ready for pickup," Gail said to Sam now, getting out of the passenger seat. She had purposely taken her time getting out of the car, to give Jody time to get out under her own steam. Gail was aware that everything took more of an effort on Jody's part these days, and that her sister-in-law was touchy about it. But that was totally understandable. Jody had been a strong, vital woman before her operation and chemo treatments, and Gail had no doubts that she would be again. But the chemotherapy was currently kicking Jody's ass, and everybody knew it. So Gail had come up with this idea, hoping it would raise Jody's spirits a little.

They walked into the wig store, and Jody stopped short for a moment. Holy crap. Who would have ever imagined that there could be so many colours and styles? Was she even ready for this?

Gail could sense her sister-in-law's reticence, but she forged on. "Look at all of these choices," she enthused. She headed straight for one with long hair. "How do you think Cas would like me as a blonde?" She put the wig on her head and adjusted it, looking at herself in the mirror. "'Look at me, I'm Sandra Dee'," Gail sang. "Remember? From Grease?"

She turned around to see if Jody was reacting. But her sister-in-law was still just standing there, looking around. Gail walked over to her. "At least try a few on," Gail said softly. "If you don't like anything here, we can go somewhere else. But you said you were tired of wearing a kerchief. You said it made you feel like an old lady. Besides, if you get something with a different look, maybe you and Frank can role-play. Spice things up a bit." Then Gail made a disgusted face. "Ewwwww. I can't believe I just said that about my own brother. I'm gonna have Cas modify my memory when I get back, and then we'll never speak of it again."

That seemed to do the trick. Jody finally smiled. "You never give up, do you, Gail?" she said to her sister-in-law.

"Nope. Never," Gail said brightly. "If I did, with our family, I'd be single, lonely, and miserable. Now, come on. Let's try on a few, and playact for a bit. It'll be fun."

Jody accompanied Gail further into the store as Gail returned the blonde wig to the stand she'd taken it from. That last supposedly lighthearted comment of Gail's had in reality cut a little close to the bone, though. Gail had stuck up for Cas so many times, and stuck by him through so much. But she was done making excuses for him. She had forgiven him, yet again, for the stupid arrangement he had made with Rudy, because the focus at the time had been on getting Cas cured. And yes, he was cured now, and there had been no more talk of a Holy War. Nor had anything been heard further from Raguel or Rowena, or even Crowley. But now, Dean was in jail for murder, and Sam was going nuts because of it. Jody was bald, skinny, and nauseous all the time, Rob was gone, and Frank kept alternating between making really bad jokes and lapsing into long silences. Whenever Gail spent any appreciable time with Cas lately, he kept looking at her with the puppydog eyes, and she was sick of it. So she kept her days as full as possible, just so she didn't have to look at him. She still loved her husband with all her heart, but she was having a hard time respecting him right now. Yes, he'd had a disease, but he had also betrayed his loved ones. She'd thought that she had forgiven Cas for that. But apparently, someone had forgotten to tell the passive-aggressive part of her personality. So instead of just confronting the problem head-on, Gail had gone into serious avoidance mode. Problem? What problem? She was the First Lady of Heaven. She was busy. That was all.

"How about me as a redhead, then?" she asked Jody. "Maybe I should buy this one, and go as Rowena for Hallowe'en. Go to the crossroads and scare the hell out of Crowley. Wouldn't that be hilarious?" And it was funny; when Gail put the wig on, for a split second when she looked in the mirror, she saw herself as Rowena and Rowena as herself. What the hell? She grabbed the wig, pulling it off her head and throwing it on the floor as if it was crawling with germs, or something.

But Jody was shaking her head slowly now, smiling almost against her will. Gail had a singular talent for taking you out of a bad mood. Or, dragging you out of it kicking and screaming, actually. Yeah, that was probably more accurate. Jody blessed her sister-in-law for that.

"OK, OK," Jody said, looking around. "I guess I can play. How about this one with the curly hair? We can pretend we're back in the '80s." She untied her kerchief and put it down on the counter, reaching for the wig.

Gail made herself keep her expression steady, but it was difficult. This was the first time Jody had let her guard down long enough to remove her head covering in front of her sister-in-law. She was completely bald now, and the sight was more than a little shocking. Jody had always kept her hair short, and it had been grey before her operation. But now, she was completely bald. She'd told Gail that after a few chemo treatments, her hair had started coming out in weird patches. So finally, Jody had just bitten the metaphorical bullet and shaved her own head. But this was the first time she'd gotten the courage to reveal herself in public.

Jody put the curly wig on. "Well? What do you think?" she asked Gail.

Thank goodness. While Jody had been putting the wig on, Gail had gotten the chance to collect herself a bit. So she smiled now. "Honestly? My first thought? Little Orphan Annie." She grabbed a black wig. "Here. Try this one."

Jody took the curly wig off and obediently donned the one that Gail handed to her now. "Oooh," Gail said. "That's more like it. Cleopatra. Put some dark eyeliner on, and we'll get you an asp."

"I already have one of those at home," Jody quipped. "Oh, sorry, you said 'asP, didn't you?"

The women laughed together, and Jody regarded Gail warmly. It was funny, really: It had taken a life-threatening, debilitating disease to do it, but they were finally more like sisters now than two women who just happened to be related to each other by marriage. And, yes, Jody was aware that Frank and Gail weren't blood siblings. But, who the hell cared? Rob wasn't her natural son, either. But the love was real, wasn't it?

"Thanks for bringing me here," Jody said to Gail now. "Actually, thanks for just getting me out of the house, period. But, you know what? I think I'm just going to go au naturel. I'd feel too fake in a wig. Role-playing aside, that just wouldn't feel like...me. It's not like I've ever been particularly vain, or anything. Stupid cancer. Eff that, Gail. Eff that. Why should I hide my bald head?" Jody took off the black wig. "I have nothing to be ashamed of. I've always been a fighter. Besides, I want to set a good example for Angela, when she's old enough to understand."

Gail opened her mouth to respond with words of support, but before she got the chance to say anything, a couple of young girls walked into the store. They had been talking to each other and laughing, but as soon as they saw Jody, they stopped short, staring at her. "Oh, my God," one of them blurted out.

Jody's blood boiled. "What's the matter? Haven't you ever seen a bald woman with one tit before?" she said boldly. As the girls continued to stare, Jody snatched the kerchief she had been wearing up from the counter, preparing to put it on. Then, she thought better of that, handing it to one of the girls instead. "Here. Give this to your grandmother. I don't need it anymore." Then she grabbed Gail by the hand. "Let's go to lunch. I feel like having a glass or three of wine," Jody said. Then she led Gail out of the store.

"Thanks again, Sis," Jody said, hugging Gail. She closed the front door after the Angel left and stood there for a moment, swaying slightly. It wasn't like Jody to have a liquid lunch, but today, she'd felt like she'd needed to blow off some steam. After she and Gail had left those girls staring after them in the wig shop, they'd headed straight for a restaurant in the mall that had a liquor license, and ordered a carafe of wine. Jody could usually hold her liquor quite well, but her physiology was completely different these days, and so were her emotions. Nelly had advised her that the pills she was taking to help with the side effects of the chemo might very well force Jody into menopause. And while the jury was still out on that, she seemed to be experiencing the attendant mood swings, anyway. She'd been a little freaked out when they'd first entered the wig shop. Then she'd slowly started getting into the spirit of things with Gail. But then, when those girls had come into the store looking at Jody the way they had, as if she was some kind of a freak, she'd gotten mad. Where did they get off? They had no idea who she was, or what she had been dealing with. But then, she and Gail had had a few glasses of wine together and Gail had listened while Jody vented, without judging her or even really commenting. Then, when Jody had gotten what she'd needed to get off her chest, they had begun to crack jokes about those girls maybe thinking that Jody and Gail were a couple.

"I could definitely do a lot worse," Gail had quipped, and Jody had smiled, putting her hand on top of Gail's on the table. Jody had vowed to herself to be freer about expressing her affection for her family and friends, going forward. Life was too short; she knew that now. It was important to show people how you felt about them, because you could be dead tomorrow, and then they would never know how much you loved them. Funny; she'd been a cop and a Hunter all those years, but it had taken a boob-ectomy to give her that wake-up call.

"I hope Cas isn't looking right now, or he might be worried," Gail had joked, looking at Jody's hand on hers. But then she had covered Jody's hand with her other hand, smiling warmly at her sister-in-law. Gail knew what a big deal it was for Jody to be demonstrative with her affection like this.

"What's going on with you and Cas these days?" Jody had asked Gail then.

"What do you mean?" Gail had asked innocently, and Jody had frowned. "I've got breast cancer, not brain cancer," she had said, annoyed. "I used to be a great interrogator, so don't pull that crap with me, Gail. There's just something in your voice and your expression when you talk about him these days. And I never see you guys together anymore."

"We're busy," Gail had said uncomfortably. "We've got different duties in Heaven. But we'll be going to Dean's arraignment hearing tomorrow together."

"I wish I could go, too, but I have another treatment," Jody had said, sighing. "Just when I feel like I'm coming back from one treatment, they kick the crap out of me with the next one."

"I'm sorry, Jody. I wish I could make things better for you," Gail had said sincerely.

But she HAD been doing that, Jody thought now, as she slowly started climbing the steps to the second floor of her house. Frank hadn't shown up yet, which either meant that he had bundled Angela up and taken her somewhere, or the two of them were napping. Whichever the case may be, Jody was okay with it, because the wine had finally given her the courage to do what she was about to do.

She walked quietly into the upstairs bathroom and shut the door. Then she went over to the shower area and slid the doors shut. A while back, she'd had the bright idea to install full-length mirrors as shower doors, reasoning that it would be easier to check your appearance after showering and getting dressed, and doing whatever else needed to be done there in the morning. But mirrors weren't exactly her friends these days. Still, the wine was talking now, telling Jody that she needed to do this, before she lost her nerve.

So she turned her back to the shower doors and started to take her clothes off. Then she untied the kerchief and let it drop on the floor with the rest of her clothes. For all of her bravado at the wig store, after a few too many stares at the restaurant, Jody had gone into her purse, gotten out the back-up kerchief she'd stashed in there, and put it on her bald head.

But she had nothing on now. Not a stitch, from head to toe. She took a deep breath, then another, and then turned around to face the mirrored shower doors.

First, she looked at her bald head. Jody had pretty much come to terms with that, or at least, she thought she had. She looked like some kind of weird alien Star Trek woman, or one of the Manson girls when they'd all shaved their heads in solidarity with Charlie. Not great, but bearable. But then Jody's eyes had drifted down to her chest.

She'd never looked before. Even when she showered, once she was finally able. Whenever she had soaped up and gingerly washed herself there, Jody had always looked pointedly away. It was weird to feel the flat area, of course, but she had never been a big-chested woman, anyway. Liz or Nicole would have noticed a much bigger difference. Even Gail. But Jody hadn't ever felt ready to look before now. And now that she did, the shock hit her like a wave. The left side of her chest looked like a war zone. Flat, barren, with a zigzag scar running diagonally from her armpit to her stomach. Holy shit. She was Frankenstein. Well, at least the mastectomy scar was keeping the stretch marks she'd gotten on her stomach from having Angela company.

Who the hell was she, now? Jody didn't even recognize herself. A sob escaped her. No wonder the girls in the wig store had reacted the way they had. She was a grotesque freak. Some of the monsters she had hunted had been more attractive.

Jody started to weep loudly now. Who the hell was she? What was she doing here? She didn't even know, any more.

Frank burst through the bathroom door and put his arms around his wife. He'd heard her sobbing, and in a lot of ways, he thought it was about damn time. She'd been too stoic for too long.

Jody tried to push him away, but he just held her tighter. Neither of them spoke. Eventually, Jody gave up the fight and let Frank hold her.

"You're still beautiful to me," he told her softly. "You've always been beautiful to me. The minute I saw you in that bunker, with your weapons and your kickass attitude, I fell in love with you. I never - " His voice cracked, but he made himself continue. "I never even went out on a date with a girl before. I was too busy Hunting, and keeping myself and Gail alive. She used to watch all those hokey Hollywood musicals, and I would make fun of her for it. Did she really think that Prince Charming, or even Gene Kelly, was hanging around the local diner with his white horse double-parked outside, just waiting to rescue her from her life? Stuff like that didn't happen to people like us. But she used to look at me and say, 'It could happen.' Whenever we watched that stupid Angels In The Outfield movie she liked so much, that's what the little kid kept saying in it, the one who was rooting for the Angels to win the pennant: 'It could happen.' Yeah, right, I said. And pigs could fly, and the moon was made of green cheese. But as soon as I met you, I went into the bathroom at the bunker that night, looked in the mirror, and told myself, 'It could happen.' Then I realized that everything that had happened up until that point in my life, every crappy, lousy, shitty thing, had happened for a reason. Because it had all led me to you. I make fun of Cas and Gail because it's fun, but if you wanna know the truth, I know exactly where they're coming from. I love you with all my jaded, childish, bad-joke-telling heart, Jody. You're the strongest, sweetest, most badass woman I've ever met. I admire you so much. You cry as much as you want to, Babe. You've earned it."

Damn him. That speech only made Jody want to cry more. But, he was right. This had been a long time coming. Jody cried for her lost breast, her lost youth, and for the fact that she felt diminished somehow, even thought that made no sense. But it was her pity party, and she would cry if she wanted to. And all of that was perfectly valid, if a little self-indulgent. But then, she cried because she had such a wonderful, loving, supportive husband. OK, now she was on shakier ground. Imagine if she didn't have the support system she did.

"Besides, I've still got one to play with, so it's all good," Frank said, and Jody laughed. Then she hiccupped, and then she laughed again.

"No fair," Frank said good-naturedly. "My shirt's all wet, and you're already naked. I guess we're gonna have to do something about that." He brought her to her feet and then picked her up and carried her out of the bathroom and into their bedroom, laying her gently on the bed. "Are you up for it, Babe?" Frank asked her hesitantly. They hadn't made love since her operation. At first, she'd been in too much pain to even consider it. Then, when the rounds of chemotherapy had started, she had been too sick. There had been a stray day here or there when she had felt marginally better. But Jody hadn't been sure how to broach the subject. It was funny; before her operation, she'd never had any trouble telling Frank what she wanted in that department, and he'd always been happy to receive any instructions she had to give. But the operation had robbed her of any feelings of sexuality she'd once had. Plainly put, Jody had felt ugly. And Frank had been tentative, afraid to suggest anything that would cause her pain, or make her feel uncomfortable.

But now, they started to make love. It was slow going at first, but once they began to reconnect, they discovered that there were plenty of things they could do that didn't even involve Jody's chest. And then, when they lay together afterwards, gasping for air, Frank gave his wife a gentle kiss on the forehead.

"I'm glad we finally had this talk," he quipped. She hadn't said a word since he'd brought her here from the bathroom, but that was the joke, of course. Then his expression turned serious. "You're way more than a pair of boobs, Jody," he told her. "You know that, I know that, and everybody knows that. Please come and talk to me, if you're ever feeling overwhelmed. Please, Jody. I want to support you, in any way that you need me to."

"I appreciate that, Pookie," Jody said. Frank smiled. "Just keep on loving me, and making me laugh," Jody continued. "We'll get through this thing together."

"Damn right, we will," Frank said firmly, kissing her on the forehead again. Then Jody emitted a snorting noise, and he grinned. She had fallen fast asleep in his arms. Sounded good to him. He pulled her closer, closing his eyes.

Gail had headed straight for their suite when she'd gotten back to Heaven, and she sent out a message for Cas to meet her there. He showed up immediately.

"I know I've been cool to you recently - " she started to say, and he interrupted her. " - I've been wanting to talk to you," Cas said.

They looked at each other for a moment. Tears prickled at Gail's eyes. "Would you still love me if I was bald?" she said, somewhat unexpectedly.

Cas was taken aback for a moment, but he made a quick recovery. "Of course I would," he assured her. "We had this discussion already, remember?" But she was looking at him with the doe eyes now, and Cas admonished himself. She was looking to him for reassurance, and it was his job to give it to her. He took her hand. "Here. Let me show you."

He popped her into the bedroom, but Gail frowned. "I wasn't trying to - " she started to say, but Cas kissed her gently. "No, that's not what I had in mind," he told her. "Come."

He led her to the bed and lay her down, and then he lay down with her, fully clothed. He took her hand and placed it on his forehead, and then he put his hand on hers. "Let me show you something," Cas said softly.

Gail closed her eyes, and suddenly, she was floating through the clouds, looking down at the Earth. She looked to her right, and Cas was floating beside her. "Our vessels are unimportant," he said, smiling. "Take my hand."

They made no contact, yet she felt the sensation of taking his hand, and they started to float together, darting in and out of the clouds. Then they went up to space, weaving in and out of the constellations. Gail heard music in her head, and she smiled. This reminded her of that movie she'd seen with the little robot called Wall-E. When he and his soulmate, the female robot, had been floating around in space like this. Had Cas ever seen that movie? She asked him that now, without speaking. No, he never had, he told her without opening his mouth, but he thought that it sounded wonderful. They must make a point to watch it as soon as they had the chance.

"What's going on here, Cas?" Gail asked him, and he smiled. "Look at yourself," he4'd said, and when she did, she saw only a ribbon of different colours. She looked up at him inquiringly.

"It does not surprise me that your true celestial form should resemble a rainbow," Cas said warmly. "There are so many different and marvelous aspects to your personality."

She looked closer at him, and his face and vessel melted away. Now he was a swirl of bright cerulean blue, with several other shades of colour mixed in. There was even a thin streak of stark black, although it was very small in relation to the other colours she was seeing. There were even a few sparkles in the mix.

Gail laughed delightedly. "You're just as beautiful as you were on our wedding night. In fact, you're even more beautiful now. You have more colours in you."

"That's all due to you, and our human family, and our Angel friends," Cas said, and she could hear the smile in his voice. But she couldn't see it on his face, because strictly speaking, he didn't have a face any more. "If you had seen my true form years ago, it would have been one-dimensional, and probably quite colourless," he went on. "But then again, when you and I first met, you wouldn't have been as beautifully colourful as you are now, either. Let me show you how I truly feel about you."

And then they were two celestial waves, dancing together, loving each other. This was the most beautiful, intellectual, touching, loving experience Gail had ever had. She had never felt so loved in her entire existence. Which was saying a lot, because she had been with Cas for a number of years now, and he always made her feel that way.

"I'm sorry I disappointed you," Cas said to her now. "I obviously still have a lot of work to do on myself in order to deserve you."

"That's all right," she told him. "By the time we get married, you'll be there."

They landed with a thud on the bed, and Cas opened his eyes. "What did you say?" he asked her, dazed.

"I thought it didn't matter to me, but for some strange reason, it does," Gail told him. "If Patricia really nullified our marriage, I think we need to have another ceremony."

Cas was surprised, but he said, "Gladly. As soon as Dean gets out of jail, we'll make the arrangements."

"Great," Gail said pertly. They were still lying in bed facing each other, fully clothed. She reached out and unbuttoned his shirt slowly. Cas just lay there, letting her. Usually, he would be doing something by now, but he was getting a funny feeling from her. It felt as if she might have some sort of agenda he wasn't picking up on.

"Remember when I was teasing you about teaching me at the Academy, when you opened the first one?" Gail asked him. She had finished unbuttoning his shirt now, and was easing it off his shoulders.

"Yes, of course I do," Cas said, smiling at the memory.

"Why do you look so much more...built, now?" Gail inquired, looking at his torso. "Angels don't lose or gain weight, or muscle mass."

Cas looked sheepish. "I may have used a little Divine power, to make myself look more appealing to you."

Gail's forehead wrinkled. "What do you mean, Cas? You've always been appealing to me. You know that."

"I know, but I also know that many men are a lot more muscular than I am," Cas replied. "And I know that you have been avoiding me lately, despite your protestations to the contrary. Not that I can blame you. You have put up with so much from me for so long, my darling. I was just trying to work up the courage to approach you, when you called me here, first. I'm such a hypocrite. I was just showing you our ethereal experience, but a large part of me was secretly hoping that you would let me express my love for you physically, too."

Gail was staring at his chest and his arms. Wow. She prided herself on not being a shallow person, but this was too much. He wasn't playing fair, now. His arms were nearly twice the size they'd been before, and three times as muscular. What the hell was she supposed to do about this? The only thing she could do, she supposed: love her soon-to-be ex-husband as best she could, and let him love her.

"I'm not usually this shallow," Gail told him, moving down his body to kiss his torso. She caressed him firmly, and her pulse began to race. Good Lord. You should pardon the expression. His chest and stomach were rock-hard now, and his arms were...Phew. She was going to need to fan herself in a minute.

Oh, the hell with it. Gail undid Cas's pants and eased them off his hips along with his underwear, and she was pleased to see that he was already excited. She made love to him with her mouth, hand, and tongue as he held her head gently. But when the feeling got too strong for him, Cas took her by the shoulders and flipped her onto her back. He slid into her, lifting her hips so that he could push deeper. She made a noise, halfway between a grunt and a moan. She touched his arms, tracing the muscles with her fingertips. He definitely wasn't playing fair. Look at him. Look at his chest. She put her hands on his torso, and he leaned down to kiss her, using his tongue.

"Cas," she said, and he replied, "Yes, my love? What do you need?"

I need for you to be a little less sexy, she thought. Oh, my God, she said to herself, fully aware of the irony. She could feel his hard, muscular chest against her soft one. She ran her hands up and down his arms. She couldn't get over how big they were now. She just wanted to lay him down and run her tongue up and down those arms, and then branch out from there.

"You first," Cas said in her ear, and then he smiled down at her. "I'm sorry; I couldn't help it. Your thoughts are so strong right now. But, I meant it: if this might be our last time for a while, I want us both to have a good idea of what we'll be missing."

Dammit. So, he knew. Okay, then. "Well, if you know that, then you also know what I'm thinking right now," she said to him, and he smiled sadly.

"Yes, I do," Cas said softly. "So let's make the most of this opportunity, then." He withdrew from her and moved down her body, until his mouth was between her legs. "I love you, my darling," he said, and then he licked her. She was already extremely excited, so she whimpered. "Open your legs for me, please," Cas said, and she obeyed immediately. He put his hands on the insides of her thighs and then put his mouth on her. He licked her a couple more times and then put his lips around her, sucking her gently. Gail cried out immediately, bucking her hips. How did he always manage to surprise her like that? Now here came his tongue again, lapping at her most sensitive area. He was just barely touching her at first, but when she wound her fingers into his hair and brought his head closer to her, he sped up, caressing her hips and thighs with his hands. Then, when he knew she was just about ready to shout out, Cas could feel her pushing his head even closer, and then he gave her everything he had.

"Cas!" she cried out. "Cas! Oh, my God! Don't stop! Please!"

He smiled as he continued to lick her. She was so cute when she did that. As if he wouldn't give her everything she needed, and more. But Cas understood what it felt like to just let yourself go, trusting completely in your partner. Giving yourself wholly over to them. He would be the one at her mercy, later. But, as always, Gail and her needs came first.

He was tempted to use the Godly power, because he knew that this would be the last time they would do this for a while. Cas actually blessed what Patricia had done, in a way, or at least, what she'd said she had done. He had claimed that he was all right with the possibility that he and Gail were no longer married, but he had not been entirely honest. Cas had said that he was fine with it so that Gail could be fine with it. But in reality, he had been very upset at the idea that he and Gail might no longer be married. Now, he knew that it had been weighing on her mind too, and Cas was actually relieved to see that. It signified to him that she still cared. A large part of Cas had been afraid that Gail had finally been pushed to her limits over what he had done with Rudy. But he also knew that he was hardly out of the woods as far as Gail was concerned. They may be making love right now, but once they left this bed and took up separate residences, Cas was going to have to work hard to gain her love and respect back. Just as he'd had to do when he'd moved to Vancouver. The difference was that this time, he had actually committed the offense.

They made love several times after that, and then, when they were spent, Cas clung to Gail, instead of the other way around. "I don't want you to go," he said to her sadly.

"I don't want to go, either," Gail replied.

"Where will you go?" Cas asked her. "Or, would you rather that I leave here?"

"No, you stay here," Gail said quickly. "I'll go to our house on Earth. I've been spending a fair amount of time there helping Jody anyway, and Dean's hearing is tomorrow. I'm hoping Sam will be able to get him bail, but let's face it, probably not. So I can help those guys out with any errands they might need, and Sam might need my help researching some law cases. But I don't know how they could possibly convict Dean for murdering that girl. We were alone in an alleyway. So unless their eyewitness is a dumpster rat or something, I don't know what their proof would be."

Cas's arms tightened around her. How he hoped that what Gail was saying was true. Things wouldn't be right between any of them until Dean was exonerated. Possibly not even then. But, that would be a good start.

"Do you still love me?" Cas blurted out. Gail's head was on his chest, and she looked up at his face now. "Of course I do, Cas," she said softly. "Just because I'm mad at you, doesn't mean I don't love you. We'll work through this, sweetie. We always have."

Cas sighed. "All right, my love. Okay. That will have to hold me, until we can all be together again."

"At least we'll see each other, Cas," Gail told him, and then she smiled. "We can even make out from time to time, if we really feel like it. But this time, I'm the one who's saying that we can't be together this way again until we're married."

Cas nodded. He understood, of course. "Will you be requiring me to go through some trials, first?"

"No, it'll be Dean who's doing that," Gail answered tartly. When he winced, she relented, kissing him on the cheek. "I'm sorry, sweetie. Maybe that was a bit harsh."

"No. No, it wasn't," Cas said sadly. "It was merely the truth. I continue to make bad decisions, and you continue to stand by me. I don't deserve you. I don't deserve your love."

"You've also made a lot of really good decisions too, Cas," Gail told him. "You've done a lot of wonderful things for a lot of people. I know you paid all of Jody's medical bills so far, and arranged to have the rest sent to our house on Earth. I know you made huge deposits in their account, and Sam and Dean's, and Tommy and Barry's, too. I know you've been working hard to try to find Felicia and Matty, among other people. And you've been ascending a record number of souls. Chuck's had to hire a couple of assistants to place them all. So, yes, you messed up, big time. But haven't we all, at one time or another? One bad decision doesn't define us, Cas, even if it's a big one."

"But I've been making bad decisions for millennia," Cas argued earnestly. "Shouldn't I know better by now?"

Yes, you should, Gail thought. But she didn't say it. There was such a thing as overkill. He was doing a good enough job berating himself right now as it was. So, what else was new? Lather, rinse, repeat. Did she really want to go through this same b.s., time and time again, throughout eternity?

But then, he surprised her. "Yes, I SHOULD know better by now," Cas said, in a tone of wonder. "And, do you know what? As our wonderful friend Dean would say, 'that's on me'. So, I will stop feeling sorry for myself, and I will stop looking to you to absolve me. I will continue to work on improving myself, I will work hard to do my job to the best of my ability, and I will continue to be thankful for your love and the love of our family in the meantime. Once Dean is released from prison, I will rebuild my relationship with him, and with Sam, and then I will decide if I need to make my confession to Frank and Jody and Rob. Only I, and I alone, will decide that. But, whichever way that goes, if you are willing, you and I will continue to see each other, and to talk. And then, when I have sufficiently proven myself to you, I will ask you to marry me again. And if you say no, I will live with your decision, as I have had to live with my own. But I will not try to garner your sympathy any more. It's not fair to you to put that burden on you. The onus is instead on me, to make things right again."

This was a little different coming from him, and Gail was happy to hear it. What Cas was saying now showed a great deal of personal growth on his part.

"I love you, Cas," she said softly. "I always have, and I always will. No matter what the future holds for us."

"And I love you, more than anything, or anyone," he responded. "I place you high, above all others. So it has always been, and so it always shall be."

"That's some very Biblical talk, Castiel," Gail said lightly. "But then, you're God, so I guess that's to be expected. What do you think Cas would have to say about it?"

"The same," he replied with a smile. "But I'm sure he would want to add this." He leaned down and kissed her on the mouth, a long, slow, lingering kiss, using his tongue. "And he would want me to add one more thing: a plea to allow him to make love to you one more time before you leave."

He was caressing her skin, looking at her charmingly. Gail was watching his arms flex, and she started to caress him in return, feeling his chest muscles. Have mercy. Cas's vessel had always been extremely attractive to her, but now what he had done was almost too much. She'd picked one hell of a time to institute a moratorium on premarital relations. Or, would they be post-marital? In either event, they'd better get Dean out of jail, get Jody healthy, and get to work rebuilding their relationship ASAP, or Gail was going to have to decide if she was going to try to lead God into temptation.

But she hadn't filed the divorce papers yet, and the nullification of their marriage remained only a theory at the moment. So until she left this bed, packed her things, and hit the reset button, Gail was going to enjoy the renovations her soon-to-be ex-husband had added to his vessel. She started to kiss and lick his chest, and he smiled. This was the kind of thing he normally liked to do to her. But it was obvious to Cas that she really liked the efforts he had gone to on her behalf, to improve his physique. And he was glad that she did. It was funny, really. Here he was, the most powerful Being in existence, and he had been feeling insecure about his appearance. For all his talk about souls, essences, and the ethereal state of existence, whenever Cas had looked at his own slender frame and then looked at Dean or Sam without their shirts on, he had felt that he could definitely stand a little improvement in that area.

And it had certainly been the right call. Gail's expressions of affection had excited him, and he rolled her over on her back now, kneeling over her. "What do you need me to do before I help you pack?" he said, using his deepest, most gravelly voice.

Gail smiled, still caressing his torso. "Everything," she said.

Frank and Jody were dressed, and in the kitchen now, and Jody was putting on a pot of coffee. Frank had asked her if she wanted any help, but she'd given him a look that was similar to the one she'd given Sam when he'd offered to assist her out of the car. So, as his friend Sam had, Frank had wisely stood down.

As the coffee was brewing, Jody looked at the shelf where they kept the mugs, and then at the higher shelf, where she'd put the cookies. The logic was that the harder they were to reach, the less inclined she would be to stuff her face with them. But ever since she'd started chemo, that had been a moot point. It was all Jody could do most days to keep even just a little bit of solid food in her system. And she ate weird things, at weird times. It was almost like being pregnant again. If she found something she could stomach without throwing it back up, she stuck with it. Once, she'd eaten mashed potatoes for a week, solid. Frank had been making semi-nervous jokes about Close Encounters Of The Third Kind, but Dr. Glover had said that any nutrition was better than none at all. Lately, it had been butterscotch pudding. But, whatever worked. She was losing weight as it was. The oncologist had told her not to worry about healthy eating right now. Just finish with the chemotherapy, and then she could settle back into a more normal routine after that.

The same went with exercising, although quite honestly, Jody had zero motivation for that right now. She had been doing rehab exercises for her left arm, and that was tiring enough. Because they'd taken lymph nodes from her left armpit, Jody had initially been unable to lift that arm. But she'd been given exercises to do, and strict instructions to do them. So, several times a day, she was to "walk" her left hand up the wall, as high as she could get it. Once she was successful in getting the hand past her shoulder, they were going to add some light weights to the repertoire.

She looked up at the kitchen cabinet now, heaving a sigh. The yin and yang of life. "Could you help me with the mugs?" Jody reluctantly asked her husband. "And maybe I'll have a cookie or two with my coffee, while you're at it."

Frank looked up sharply, and then he started to smile. It had been a long time since she'd had an appetite for a cookie, and an even longer one since she'd asked him for his help with anything. He was happy to see both of those things. He rose and joined her over at the counter.

"Thanks, Pookie," Jody said, putting her arms around him. Another pleasant surprise. Frank held her, continuing to smile. "You reminded me of who I really am, today," Jody went on. "But, you were right: I have to meet you halfway. Just because I ask for help every now and then, that doesn't make me helpless. It just means I need a little help, every now and then. So do you. So does everybody. But I promise you, I'm gonna work hard, follow doctors' orders, and when this is all over, I'm going to be stronger for it. But, Cas help anybody who tries to treat me like a porcelain doll in the meantime, 'cause I'll kick their asses. Even if I do only have one good arm at the moment."

"I know you will," Frank said, giving her a squeeze. He gave her love, and he gave her words of support and encouragement. But Frank had been an emotional wreck ever since the day Jody had told him about her diagnosis. He truly didn't give a damn about the way she looked at the moment. Looks were fleeting. Frank had done all kinds of covert research online and so he'd kind of known what to expect, at least on an intellectual level. But he hadn't been prepared for the sight of what the operation and the treatments were doing to his wife. Who the hell was the sadistic bastard who had dreamed up chemotherapy in the first place? It seemed like the cure was way worse than the damn disease. But he'd kept his big yap shut, because Dr. Glover had told the two of them that the drugs used in the treatments were like tactical nukes, bombing the cancer cells out of Jody's body. The oncologist must have sensed instinctively that the couple would be able to relate to such an analogy. So what could Frank say about that? They needed to nuke the crap out of that cancer, so that his wife could be herself again, and so that Frank could get a decent night's sleep again. Many nights, he'd found himself lying awake in their bed, watching her sleep. Making sure she was still breathing. Sometimes she would roll over his way and then he would pretend he was asleep, because he didn't want to freak her out. But the bottom line was that that stupid disease was holding them both hostage right now. Frank was pretty much housebound these days, because Angela and Jody both needed him. He was aware of Dean's situation, of course; he'd talked to Sam about it over the phone. But Sam was putting as positive a spin on it as he could, because they'd all agreed that they didn't want to say or do anything to add to Frank and Jody's burdens right now. And that included the drama going on between the Winchesters and Cas and Gail regarding the Red Demon, the reason that Dean was going on trial in the first place. Especially that, since it was that little stunt of Cas's that had almost ended Jody and Frank's son's young life.

Frank got the mugs out of the cabinet, and then he reached for the cookies.


	5. As God Is My Witness

Chapter 5 - As God Is My Witness

Sam had been speaking on Dean's behalf at the arraignment hearing, and he felt he'd been doing very well. Despite what he'd heard about Judge Pike, so far the man seemed tough, but fair. Sam had presented the Judge with fake credentials, showing Sam to be a member in good standing of the Kansas State Bar, and the Law Society. As far as Sam was concerned, the bail part of the hearing was a slam-dunk. He didn't expect that Dean would escape arraignment, though. His brother was charged with the murder of a young girl, and Judge Pike was nicknamed the Hanging Judge. But at least they could get Dean out, and Sam would get an idea of the kind of evidence the DA had here at this hearing.

Cas and Gail were sitting in the front row, just behind the defense table. They were there to support Dean, of course, and both had also offered to be character witnesses for him, if such support was needed. The inevitable quips had been made about having God and an Angel as witnesses to attest to what a wonderful person Dean was, but the problem was that the Judge wouldn't know their status. But they had both wanted very badly to help; Cas, most especially. And Sam had thought that there could still be value in their testimony, if nothing else than just from the standpoint of having been friends with his brother for so many years.

So when Sam stood and asked the Judge if he could call a couple of character witnesses on Dean's behalf, Pike told him he would allow just one, after the recess. Dean was permitted to stay at the table during the fifteen-minute break, and he turned around in his chair now to talk to Cas and Gail.

"How are you, Dean?" Cas asked his friend. "Are you comfortable? Are they giving you enough to eat?"

Dean gave him a baleful look. Only Cas could make a hitch in the county jail sound like a stay at the local bed and breakfast. "Yeah, Cas, I'm fine. It's fine," he said dryly. "They turn down the bed and leave a mint on my pillow every night." Then his expression softened. "It'll be good to get home, though."

"It's too bad we can't tell the Judge that you're God," Sam said to Cas in a low voice, with a tight smile. "I can't think of any better character witness than that. No offense, Gail."

She smiled. "None taken. I completely agree. Besides, Cas has known Dean a lot longer than me." Then she frowned. "Hang on just a second. I'm getting a message from Bobby, on Angel Radio. He says Frank's been trying to call Cas's cell phone, but all he's getting is the Voice Mail."

Cas reached into his pocket. "I turned it off when we entered the courtroom," he told the group. "Angel Radio, too. They warned us sternly about that." He glanced at the display. "Two missed calls from Frank."

"Here, give it to me," Gail said, holding out her hand. "You and Sam had better discuss your testimony. I'll find out what he wants." She took the phone out into the hallway and then came back in a couple of minutes, giving the phone back to Cas.

"Sorry, but I've got to go," she told the men. "Jody told Frank she was going to take a taxi home from her chemo treatment, but she feels really sick, so they gave her a sedative. He's got to go and pick her up, but he needs somebody to watch Angela. So I'll just pop over there, and then I'll come back when they get home." She leaned forward and gave Dean a quick kiss on the cheek. The bailiff was watching them, but he made no move. "Whatever you do, don't eat that mint," she quipped, earning a smirk from Dean. "You don't know where that thing's been." Then Gail looked at Cas. "Say good things. Even if you have to lie." She smirked back at Dean, and he said, "Oh, har har. Very funny, Mrs. Buzzkill." Then his smile faded. "Give Jody a hug from me."

Gail nodded, and she got up and left the room. A few minutes later, Judge Pike banged the gavel. "Call your witness," he said to Sam.

When Cas got to the witness stand and sat down, the court clerk handed him the Bible. Cas looked at it, bemused. "Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you, God?" the clerk said.

"So help me...?" Cas said, his lips twitching furiously.

"...God," the clerk repeated tersely.

Cas smiled. He couldn't help it. He really wished Gail hadn't had to leave. She would be enjoying this, calling it a "Who's On First" type of situation. There were still some gaps in Cas's scope of knowledge of popular culture, and that had been one of them, up until just recently. Once Gail had made reference to that phrase several times, Cas had asked her to tell him its meaning. So she'd had Sam find the comedy skit online, and they'd shown it to Cas, who had found it humourous.

And that was exactly the type of situation Cas found himself in right now. He could just hear Gail laughing merrily, as he would say, "I swear to tell the truth, so help me...me." Then the clerk would say, "You mean, 'so help you, God,'" and Cas would say, "Yes. That's what I said." That could go on for a while, couldn't it?

And then there was the fact that he was currently holding a Bible in his hand. In many ways, the stories contained in it were the stories of Cas and his family, told from the very Beginning. But even though there were parts of it that were actually one hundred percent true, there were also things that had been fudged, like the true stories of Abraham, and of The Flood. And there were outright lies as well, told the way they were in this book to protect certain individuals. Some of the lies ran so deep that even Cas didn't know the whole truths about them.

"I can't swear on this," Castiel told the clerk, who looked up at the Judge questioningly.

"Why not?" Judge Pike said sharply. "Are you one of those atheists?"

"Hardly," Cas said, his lips twitching again. "But there are many things in this Book that are inaccurate, to be generous about it."

"Just do it," Judge Pike said irritably. "I won't tell anybody, I promise."

"Why do people swear on the Bible, anyway?" Cas said, wrinkling his forehead. "Why not on the Torah, or the Qur'an, or the Dead Sea Scrolls, for that matter? All perfectly valid religious texts, depending on what their holders believe. Why not the writings of Confucius? What if the witness is not a Christian? Many people are not; in fact, I think Christianity is only the third most popular religion, worldwide. And I happen to know that this Book contains many inaccuracies. What would that say about my veracity then, were I to just swear on it anyway, when I have that knowledge?"

"We're not here for a theological discussion," the Judge admonished him. "So, unless you're a Priest, just swear on the damn thing, and let's hear your testimony. I have an appointment after this."

"I cannot do that," Cas said stubbornly. He sat back in the witness chair, putting the Bible on the arm of the chair and crossing his arms.

"Fine, then. You know what? I don't have time for this," Judge Pike said angrily. He banged the gavel. "Court is adjourned for the day." Then he pointed the gavel at Cas. "You just earned yourself a night's stay in the lockup. Maybe tomorrow, you'll address this Court in a more respectful manner." He glared at Sam. "No bail for your brother. The arraignment resumes tomorrow."

Then he stalked out of the room. The bailiffs came forward to take both Dean and Cas to the lockup as Sam stood there, frustrated.

Cas was on his bunk in the jail cell, sitting in quiet contemplation. He supposed he shouldn't have argued about the Bible. Humans looked at these sorts of things differently, and they didn't have the kind of inside knowledge he did. Now he had made things even worse for Dean, and he was unable even to apologize to his friend, because they were keeping Dean in a cell around the corner from where Cas was being held.

Cas could have just popped himself out of here, but he had opted to stay. He had nowhere better to go at the moment. He hadn't wanted to go back to the bunker and face Sam's accusatory stare, and he hadn't wanted to go back to an empty suite in Heaven. After their extended lovemaking session, Cas had helped Gail to pack, and then he had escorted her to their house on Earth. That had been the last thing he'd wanted to do, but he had wanted to remind his wife that he had grown as an individual and as a man, and show that he could allow her to have her own space without his interference. But it had just about killed him to do it.

This was much different from their first separation, though. The main reason for this one, in Cas's mind, wasn't the fact that they may or may not be married any more. It was the fact that he had betrayed her, and Dean, and Rob. Cas knew Gail well enough to know that she sometimes suppressed her own feelings about things, in view of the greater good. They had been in crisis mode at the time. Rob had been in critical condition, and then they had had to take care of the Demon attacks, and then they'd had to cure Cas of his Holy War obsession. They'd also had to confront Patricia, learning about her horrifying ordeal at Lucifer's hands, and were currently acting as a support system for Jody in her fight against cancer. Although admittedly, Gail had been helping out a lot more than Cas had, in that particular department. But Cas was still ascending souls from the Garden, and Gail was shuttling back and forth between her board duties in Heaven, when she wasn't on Earth. Now, there was Dean's predicament. Wow. He had never stopped to realize how much he and Gail had had on their plates lately. Maybe he should just stay here overnight, and get a bit of rest.

Cas considered himself extremely fortunate, though, because Gail had advised him that she was open to forgiving him. She was just using the ambiguity about whether or not they were still married as an excuse to make him atone, he was sure. But he would do so, and he would do it gladly. Whatever she required, if she would only agree to remarry him, at the end of the process. Once Dean was freed, Cas and Gail had agreed that they would undergo the ancient Enochian annulment ritual in order that they could begin again, with a clean slate. She was calling it a divorce, but it wasn't, not really. Just a way of wiping the slate clean. The fact that Cas hadn't supplied her with all of the details of the ritual was immaterial, in his opinion. The process would still be far more grueling for him than for her, he was sure. And he was making the huge assumption that she would say yes to his marriage proposal, once it was all over. But Gail had told Cas that she still loved him more than anything; she said she just needed a little time to herself. And if that was all she needed to take him back, he could certainly give her that, couldn't he?

"Boy, for such an inherently sweet guy, you sure spend a lot of time in jail, Cas," Sam said dryly.

Gail was right behind him, and she was frowning deeply. The other inmates were hooting and whistling at her. Cas winced. Why had Sam brought her here?

"You can talk to him for a minute, while I get started on the paperwork for bail," the police officer said to Sam.

"I told them I was your lawyer," Sam said to Cas, lowering his voice.

"What the hell, Cas?" Gail fumed. "I came back to the courtroom after Frank brought Jody home, and nobody was there!"

"I'm sorry - " he started to say, but she interrupted him. "You're sorry?!" Gail exclaimed. "Why didn't you call me on our frequency and tell me what had happened, and where you were? They told me that court was adjourned for the day, and everybody was gone. But I didn't see you when I went up to Heaven, and I didn't hear from you!"

Cas was taken aback. He had never seen Gail like this before. HE was always the one who was frantic about HER safety, and her whereabouts. So this was what it was like to be on the receiving end of that. But Cas thought it was wonderful. It meant she still cared.

Gail had been scared badly when Cas had gone missing, because there was something that she hadn't had the chance to tell him, yet. When she'd gone to the courthouse originally, she had been a little surprised that the day's proceedings were already over, but not overly concerned. She'd just assumed that Cas had gone back up to Heaven. But once she'd gone there to find him, Gail had bumped into Gabriel, who'd said he was there looking for Cas, too.

"Good. Then you and I can look for him together," Gail had said brightly, but Gabriel had held up a hand, frowning.

"No time, Kitten," he'd said in a serious tone. "You'll have to give him a message for me. Raguel is on the rampage, and he wants Cas to know about it. He's been leading me on a merry chase around the globe. Every time I get where I think he is, he's one step ahead of me. But he's been leaving all kinds of dire warnings at these locations. He's mad because that whole Holy War thing didn't happen. So far, every place he's led me to has had dead humans, and handwriting on the wall in Enochian, like Cas and Crowley and I saw in the place where he'd killed all those Demons. He says he'll dispose of all of Cas's loved ones unless Cas puts the Holy War back on the table. And, if Cas still won't do that, Raguel says he'll just kill Cas, himself."

"Oh, right. He's going to kill God?" Gail had said skeptically. "Yeah. As if."

"That's what I thought, too," Gabriel said soberly. "But, I was worried about YOU. I was even worried about Sam and Dean, and your brother. So I came here to talk to Cas about it. But when I couldn't find him, just out of curiosity, I stopped by the annex to the weapons room. And, sure enough, there's a nuke missing."

Gail's blood ran cold. "What? What are you talking about?"

"Michael's signet ring," Gabe replied.

"A piece of jewelry is going to kill the Almighty," Gail said sarcastically.

"Oh, ye of little faith," Gabriel replied, raising an eyebrow to her. "Didn't anyone ever tell you that size doesn't matter, it's all in how you use it?"

Gail rolled her eyes, but she was starting to get worried now. "I don't know where Cas is, Gabriel. Can't you just do your Archangel thing and find him?"

"Don't you think I tried that?" he said, a little irritably. "No go. He must be cloaked. Now that he's God, he can do that if he wants."

Gail had thrown her hands up in frustration. "Of course. Of course he can."

"Just tell him what I said, when you see him," Gabriel had said. "I'm going back down to Earth. If I can't find Raguel, maybe I can pick up the ring's location. Michael was an Archangel, too."

She thanked him and he popped out, but now, Gail was really worried. Eventually, when she'd run out of ideas, she had called Sam on his cell phone and he'd told her what had happened at the hearing. Sam had just assumed that Cas would have already called her the Angel way, and let her know. He'd been puzzled. What the hell was up with those two, these days?

Sam had been driving back to the jailhouse from the bunker when Gail had called, and he'd pulled over to the side of the road to take her call. As soon as he'd told her where he was, she'd popped into the passenger seat of the car, startling him momentarily. Then he'd grinned, hanging up his phone.

"This takes me back," he'd said. "Your husband used to do the same thing. Only he didn't usually warn us by cell phone, first. I can't count the amount of times Dean nearly drove into the ditch."

So Sam had brought her to the jailhouse, mainly because she hadn't really given him a choice.

"I'm sorry, my darling," Cas said softly. "I never dreamed that you would be so concerned. But, I owe you an apology. Now I know how it feels when the shoe is on the other foot."

"Why DIDN'T you tell me where you were, Cas?" Gail asked him in a more subdued tone.

"I didn't want you to come here," Cas said, his eyes downcast. "I didn't want you subjected to those men out there." He gestured to the other cells. The inmates had now gone quiet for the most part, but there was still the occasional rude noise, or wolf whistle. "It smells like urine here, there is bad language on the walls, and there are some very objectionable individuals in here, to say the least," Cas went on.

"Hey! Who are you callin' objectionable?" A large man with tattoo-covered arms approached Cas from the corner of their cell, startling Gail. She'd been so focused on Cas that she hadn't even noticed that there was someone else in the cell with him.

The man looked at her. "That your bitch?" he asked Cas.

Sam winced. This wasn't gonna be pretty. Cas turned around, approaching his cellmate. "No, she is my wife," he said coldly. "But, YOU will be MY bitch if you do not apologize to her, immediately. Do not test me, Boy."

Sam grinned. He couldn't help himself. This took him back, too. Sam remembered when Cas had done that same thing with him, years ago. He had intimidated the crap out of Sam, although Dean's brother hadn't admitted it at the time. Cas just had a way about him. Even if you didn't know who or what he was.

"I'm sorry, lady," the inmate mumbled to Gail, and then he retreated back to his corner again.

"He will not bother you again," Cas said to Gail. Sam was trying not to laugh. That guy was probably some kind of big, badass dude with a biker gang or something, and Cas had effectively sent him into the corner like he was a little kid on a time-out, without having to lift a finger.

Gail was smiling now, too. Cas was reminding her of one of the reasons why she loved him so much. His old-fashioned chivalry, including the way he stood up to other men who were being rude to her, were irresistible to her. She should almost egg the biker on a little, just so she could see and hear Cas flex his muscles, both figuratively and literally. But then, she checked herself. What the hell was the matter with her? She and Cas had only been separated for a short time, and she was already simpering over him like a schoolgirl.

"We'd better go get your bail sorted out," Sam said to Cas. He and Gail walked back out to the duty officer's desk, and Sam paid Cas's bail with the money he had taken out of the bunker's safe. He and Dean always kept a considerable amount of ready cash there for emergencies.

Once Cas was released and they were driving back to the bunker, Cas apologized again, to Sam this time. "I will pay you back for the bail money, and I promise that I will not antagonize the Judge anymore," Cas said quietly.

"You don't have to pay us back, Cas," Sam told his friend. "You've given us enough money to live comfortably on for the rest of our lives. But as far as the Judge goes, I think we've pretty much burned that bridge. We'll just have to see what he says, tomorrow. The only silver lining is, if Dean's on a fast-track program, his trial will probably come very soon after the arraignment. Tomorrow, we'll get an idea of what kind of evidence the DA has, and hopefully we'll be able to get a lot of females on the jury."

"Wouldn't the fact that Dean is going on trial for killing a female tend to contraindicate that?" Cas asked incisively.

"Well, look at you," Sam said, impressed. "Somebody's studied a law book or two."

"No, he's just watched a lot of old Perry Mason shows on late-night TV," Gail quipped. "But, in this case, isn't he right?"

Sam grinned. "Normally, I'd agree. But - sorry, Gail - Dean's always been attractive to girls. Don't ever tell him I said that. I know it's sexist, but I just think that most females would be less likely to want to send him away to jail. Come on, Gail. Am I right?"

Gail rolled her eyes. "OK, number one: ewwww. But number two, and don't ever tell him I said so - you could have a point. But hey, speaking of Dean and females, has anybody told Nicole what's going on?"

"I asked him if he wanted me to call her, and he said no," Sam replied.

Gail shook her head slowly. "I'm not so sure that's the smartest approach," she said. "Remember the trouble we all got into when we didn't tell her right away, when I revived him?"

Sam half-shrugged. "Not my girlfriend, not my call. Anyway, I guess now that Cas can't be a character witness, I'll call on you, if the Judge will let me."

"Just make sure that when you take the oath, you overlook the obvious inaccuracies in that Book they want you to swear on," Cas sniffed disdainfully.

"OK, let's not start that again," Sam said sternly. "You'd better not say anything about that tomorrow, either, Cas." Sam sighed. Cas could be so stubborn, sometimes.

"We have to go, Sam. We'll see you tomorrow," Cas said abruptly, and he and Gail promptly disappeared from the car.

Sam sighed again. "You're welcome," he said aloud, to no one. Dean was right; damn Angels.

The next morning, they were all back in the courtroom. Judge Pike banged his gavel, looking at Sam. "Mr. Winchester, I'd like to see you in my chambers for a moment," he said.

Sam's brow furrowed, but he rose from his chair. The prosecutor rose too, but the Judge shook his head. "Not you, Mr. Armstrong. Just Mr. Winchester."

As Sam followed the Judge out of the room, Dean turned around to look at Cas. "Smooth move, yesterday," he said sarcastically. "Next time I need a witness to testify for me, I'll pick somebody who's not trying to do a rewrite of the Old Testament."

"I'm sorry, Dean," Cas said contritely. Dean opened his mouth to say something else, but then he closed it again. Aw, geez. God was giving him the sad puppy-dog eyes now. So Dean merely sighed. "I wonder what Judge-y McJudgerson is talking to Sammy about," he said.

"I only allowed you to represent your brother in this proceeding because you had advised that you were licensed to practice law in this state," Judge Pike said, looking at Sam over his reading glasses. He was looking at the piece of paper he held in his hand. "According to this report, your credentials are forgeries."

"What?!" Sam said, pretending indignance. "I have no idea why your so-called report would show that. I'll call the Bar Association ASAP, and get them to straighten that out."

Pike eyed Sam for a moment. Hmmm. He didn't trust this guy as far as he could throw him, but the Judge supposed there had been no harm done. Sam Winchester obviously knew the law, and he was obviously eager to help his brother. Commendable, if misguided. Maybe the brothers didn't have much money. That was understandable. Lawyers charged a small fortune these days. But this was a capital charge, and Judge Pike had never had a mistrial happen out of the events that had happened in his courtroom. Never.

"Mr. Winchester, you realize that your brother WILL stand trial for this crime, don't you?" the Judge asked Sam. "You may mean well, but if I were you, I would get an experienced criminal lawyer. I'm willing to recess for two days, to give you time to get one. But, that's it. We're on the fast track here, as I'm sure you're aware by now."

Sam's heart sank. Great. Just terrific. Two days to find an experienced criminal lawyer, one that he could trust, to exonerate Dean for a murder he had technically committed, but they couldn't mount a defense for? Sure. Piece of cake.

When Sam got back to the bunker, he started looking online. But he didn't look under professional listings. He searched on Facebook.

A few minutes later, Sam was calling Nick's number.

"Sam? Sam Winchester? How're you doing, buddy? I haven't heard from you in years!" Nick exclaimed.

"Please tell me you passed the Bar," Sam said to his old college friend.

"Passed the Bar? I never passed a bar in my life," Nick joked. "Yeah, sure I passed the Bar, Sam, years ago. I worked for a firm for a dozen-odd years, and by then, I had saved enough to hang out my own shingle. Criminal and corporate law, both."

Sam sighed with relief. "You don't know how happy I am to hear that, Nick. I need your help."

Nick arrived at the courthouse early. He'd called Judge Pike as a courtesy, letting the magistrate know he'd be representing Dean Winchester. Could he have about half an hour to confer with his client before the arraignment hearing? And he'd like to have a quick chat with the DA, to see what kind of evidence Armstrong had.

Judge Pike granted Nick's requests. The defense attorney had spoken to Pike with the proper amount of respect, and with just the right touch of fear. That was how Thaddeus liked them to speak. All of them. When the Judge had been a child, he'd been bullied mercilessly by the other kids, mainly because of his unfortunate first name, and the fact that his initials spelled "T.P." Kids could do a lot with ammunition like that. But Thaddeus had worked very hard, and he had seen to it that he was given the respect that he deserved. So he'd been inclined to give Nick Warner what he had so deferentially requested. Unlike that man who Sam Winchester had attempted to call as a character witness yesterday. He had acted as if he were above the entire legal process somehow, and he had talked back to Judge Pike, enraging the magistrate. Hopefully, Mr. Warner had enough good sense to keep that damn atheist far away from the witness stand.

Meanwhile, Dean was sitting in the jury deliberations room, waiting for Nick to get there. The bailiff had allowed Sam, Cas and Gail to wait with him. The officer was standing right outside the door, but otherwise, the four of them were there alone. Dean had been quiet and cooperative throughout this entire process, and the guards had all relaxed around him by now. He didn't seem like a violent guy, or even the criminal type. They had all come to the general consensus that if he was guilty of the crime at all, it had probably been some kind of domestic thing that had gotten out of hand. Maybe he should just cut his losses and strike up some sort of a plea bargain.

Sam was placing the floor as they waited for Nick to arrive. He remembered his old college buddy as a very intelligent guy who'd been committed to his studies, but he had also had a bit of a wild side. Of course, they all had, back then. That had been a long, long time ago. Now Nick was married, with the requisite 2.5 kids, a good career, and a nice suburban home with a two-car garage. All the things that Sam should have had, if life was fair. But it wasn't, was it? Right now, Sam would settle for Dean out of jail, and with the charges cleared.

Nick entered the room slowly, leaning on his cane. He actually rarely used the thing these days, and he could walk a lot better than he let on. Yet he brought it here whenever he litigated a case, and he always made sure that the presiding judge and/or jury "found out" that he was a decorated war hero, who'd done two tours of duty in Afghanistan. He'd have done more, too, if his hip hadn't been shattered by two well-placed bullets. But hey, it was a tough old world out there, and you had to use whatever edge you had.

Nick and Sam shook, and then Sam introduced his old college buddy to Gail, Cas, and then Dean. Nick was looking at them all closely, assessing them. You could tell a lot about a person by the look on their face in these types of situations, and their body language around the defendant.

Nick had seen Sam pacing the floor when he'd come in the room, and even after Nick sat down at the table, Sam continued to hover over Dean, like an eagle mother watching the nest.

The woman, Gail, was sitting right next to Dean, and her body language toward him was very open. This was important to Nick, because he had been to see the prosecutor before he'd come here, and he'd gotten a bit of a wake-up call. So it was a relief to see that a female was able to sit so close to Dean and joke around with him the way that Gail was doing. That suggested to Nick that Dean wasn't a woman-hating, mad dog, serial killer. Although Nick couldn't rule that out entirely. He was sure that even Hitler had been nice to Eva Braun on occasion. And Charlie had had a whole harem of women, hadn't he?

The man they'd introduced as Gail's husband, Cas, was an interesting study. He was standing against the wall near where Dean and Gail were sitting, and his posture was what Nick and his Army buddies would have called "parade rest". He was standing motionless, projecting a calm facade. But Nick was looking at Cas's eyes, and they were a study in contradiction. They would flit around the room, touching on the others, but not lingering. The person that Cas looked at the longest was his wife, but every time she would cast her eyes in his direction, he would quickly look away. In Nick's experience, that kind of behaviour either signified that there was trouble between the couple, or that they had a secret or two that they weren't willing to share. Also, whenever Cas looked at Nick, his eyes would narrow, as if he were sizing Nick up in return.

"I'll need to talk to my client alone," Nick said to the trio, but Dean was shaking his head. "They can stay," he said shortly.

Nick's eyebrows raised. He looked closer at Sam's brother's face. Dean looked like a tough guy, but Nick could detect some vulnerability in his expression. Plus, he was good-looking. If they could get a mostly female jury and use that, and play up the quality of innocent bewilderment Dean inexplicably seemed to have considering what he was accused of here, they might just get reasonable doubt.

As of yet, all that the DA had given Nick was a written statement from an eyewitness, who was going to testify to what he had seen. But Armstrong had also advised Nick that he was waiting for security camera footage from the stores on each side of the alleyway, and if there was anything to be seen on them, he would let Nick know right away. Under the rules of discovery, he had to.

"Fine," Nick said to Dean calmly. "So, why'd you kill her, Dean?"

Cas rushed over to the chair beside Dean's where Nick was sitting and grabbed him by the shirt front, hauling him to his feet. Sam then rushed over to Cas, pulling him away from the attorney as gently as he could. "Cas! Stand down, dude!"

"But, he said Dean is guilty!" Cas exclaimed. "He is supposed to be Dean's advocate!"

"You see, this is why I wanted to talk to Dean alone," Nick stated. He smoothed his shirt, sitting back down calmly. His pulse was racing, though. That guy had gone from zero to two hundred in less than a second. If Nick hadn't known differently, he would have sworn that Cas was the defendant. He was backing off now, but the guy looked like he was ready to kill Nick with his bare hands, and then eat a five-course meal afterwards. Nick had served with guys who had that kind of look. If this had been half a century or so prior, those kinds of guys might have been the type who might have been involved in a little dust-up called My Lai. In Nick's opinion, this guy Cas looked like he might feel right at home in that type of situation, or at least, in the type of conflict that had spawned that type of situation.

Dean was trying not to smirk too much. War hero or not, Sammy's friend Nick had no idea who he was dealing with when it came to Cas.

"I was just playing Devil's Advocate, trying to get a spontaneous reaction," Nick said testily.

Gail was working her mouth now, trying not to smile because she knew that it would look bad. But: "Devil's Advocate" versus God? What a cage match that would be. She supposed she should feel guilty about Cas manhandling a guy who had been wounded in wartime, as Sam had told them Nick had been. But, once again, as far as war wounds went, Cas could definitely outdo Nick, there. Hell, Gail could probably outdo him. And while she understood the theory of playing Devil's Advocate, Gail was with Cas on this one: she didn't really appreciate some stranger coming in here and accusing Dean of murder. Especially one who was supposed to be on their side.

"So when did you stop beating your wife, Dean?" Gail said tartly, and Nick gave her a sharp look. But then, unexpectedly, the attorney smiled.

"Clever," he said. "Yeah, that's more or less what I was going for. You can tell a lot about a person just from how they answer that type of question." Then he threw Cas a glare. "Unfortunately, my answer came from the wrong person. Unless you have some information that you're holding back from me."

They all glanced at each other. Actually, there was a great deal that they were withholding from him. But, how could they tell him the truth?

Nick sighed. He may have an artificial hip, but he wasn't stupid. "Look. I've been doing this for a lot of years now, and I've never seen a guiltier-looking group in all my life. You should see yourselves. Well, this isn't an Agatha Christie novel, and I'm not Miss Marple. If you want me to help Dean, you're gonna have to tell me the truth."

"The girl he killed was possessed by a Demon," Cas said abruptly. "It was the Demon that Dean was attempting to dispatch, but It left the vessel before he could do it."

Sam smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand. Great. Just great.

Nick gave Sam a crooked smile. "OK, now I know what's going on. You're helping one of our old buddies to prank me, right? Where's the camera?"

"We are not 'pranking' you," Cas said grimly. "I am God, and my wife is an Original Angel. You must get Dean released of all charges. He was only doing what he was supposed to do. It is not his fault."

"OK, Cas, you're not helping, man," Dean said, rolling his eyes. Great. Now his defense lawyer thought they were all cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs. Awesome.

Sam let out a frustrated breath. They should have just left the room when Nick had asked them to. Cas was lucky he was God, or Sam would be kicking his ass right now. When Sam had talked to Frank last, Gail's brother had asked Sam why Cas didn't just bust Dean out of jail. Why go through all this trial nonsense, anyway? But Sam and Dean had talked extensively about that very thing, and Dean had been adamant that he wanted his name cleared. He didn't want to be a fugitive for the rest of his life, looking over his shoulder every time he went on a beer run. And when he and Sammy went back on the road, that was, if they ever did with all of the b.s. that had been going on, Dean didn't want to have to worry about every cop in the contiguous United States being on the lookout for him. Forget that nonsense. Like that cop in those movies said, Dean was too old for that stuff.

Nick rose from his chair, grabbing his cane. It was funny, but he suddenly seemed a lot more spry now. "I don't have time for frat pranks, Sam," he said angrily. "Lose my number."

But then Cas moved quickly again, putting his head on Nick's head, modifying his memory. When Nick sat back down, Cas said, "We will leave you and Dean to talk alone now, as you have requested," and he, Gail and Sam left the room.

"The prosecution calls Zeke Nicholson to the stand," the DA said, and Dean turned around in his chair to look at the man. Nick had advised them that a homeless guy had identified Dean as the killer, and that there was some very grainy surveillance footage to back up the man's story. Nick was confident that there was a boatload of reasonable doubt here. He had no recollection of anything to do with God, Angels, or Demons. When Cas had reset his memory that day, Dean had simply told Nick that it wasn't him. He'd been out on the street at the time, helping Gail with Rob. The eyewitness was wrong. Nick had no reason to disbelieve him. The lawyer knew that eyewitness accounts were negligible at best, and he had seen the video clip they were looking to introduce, and it was very unconvincing.

The DA rose to ask Zeke his questions. Judge Pike had fast-tracked the trial, all right. Here they were, only a week later, hearing testimony. Truth be told, Armstrong knew his case was wafer-thin. But, like everyone else, he was beholden to the new "get tough on crime" initiative. Prosecute 'em all, and let the jury sort them out.

Zeke was extremely nervous to be around all these cops and law enforcement types. He'd been out on the streets for a number of years now, and most times, he and the police were natural enemies. Zeke was an unkempt, drug-addicted, homeless person, and that was all he was, as far as they were concerned. And they were not wrong. Admittedly, Zeke WAS all of those things. But he also had a conscience, and what he had witnessed had been preying on his mind ever since he had witnessed it. So he had gone to the police station and endured the looks and the wrinkled noses until he'd found a cop who'd taken him seriously.

By the time Dean Winchester had been arrested, DA Armstrong had paid to put Zeke up in a cheap motel, bought him a suit, and gotten him a haircut and a shave. So when Zeke took the stand, he looked like a respectable individual. He was even starting to feel like one.

Zeke looked at the defense table. He recognized the defendant from that day, right away. He'd also picked the guy out of a lineup. There was no way you could ever forget something like that.

But then, as Zeke's eyes shifted, he gasped. The woman who was sitting behind the defendant...wasn't she...He squinted. He couldn't be sure. She looked like the woman who'd been with the guy in the alley. But she had only been there for a second, and then she had disappeared into thin air. But the DA had been very stern about that part of Zeke's story, telling him not to talk about that on the stand. People didn't just appear and disappear like that. Zeke would lose all credibility if he ranted about that kind of thing. Just stick to the part where the defendant had stabbed the young girl with the jagged knife and then run away.

So Zeke gave his testimony, and he was calm, earnest, and sincere. He looked at the jury, as the prosecutor had instructed him to do, and they looked back at him with open, pleasant expressions. They didn't see a homeless bum; they only saw a concerned citizen, who was trying to do the right thing. Zeke relaxed. He WAS doing the right thing, for the first time in a long time.

Once Zeke's direct testimony was finished, Nick rose slowly. "I'm sorry, Your Honour," he said. "My war wounds are acting up today."

Zeke looked at Nick. "War wounds?" he asked sharply.

"Two tours in Afghanistan," Nick said pleasantly. "You?"

"Just one," Zeke mumbled. "I still have nightmares."

Nick nodded as he approached the stand. "I understand," he said in a gentle voice. "When I took those bullets, I was on painkillers for a while after. It's rough, I know."

The prosecutor stood. "Is there a question coming any time soon, Mr. Warner?"

"I was wondering that myself," Judge Pike said.

"My apologies to the Court," Nick said smoothly, looking at the jury. "I wasn't aware that empathy was such a bad thing. A question? Fine. I'll ask a question. What's your self-medication of choice, Mr. Nicholson?"

"Crack," Zeke responded automatically. You had to answer honestly at the mission, or they wouldn't let you in. "But if I can't afford that, I huff paint, or nail polish."

Crap. The DA sat back in his chair, letting out a frustrated breath.

"But that doesn't mean I don't know what I saw," Zeke continued. He pointed at Dean. "I saw that guy stab that poor young girl with a great big knife. Then he took off. I know what I saw."

"Were you under the influence of anything that day?" Nick inquired.

"No, I was just coming down," Zeke answered honestly. "I found a can of turpentine and huffed it, the night before. I was clean when I saw the murder. I was just rooting around in the bins for some food. Sometimes people leave half-eaten sandwiches in there. I heard voices, so I hid behind the dumpster. And that's when I saw him kill that girl." He pointed at Dean again.

"You heard voices?" Nick said, feigning surprise. "Whose voices were they? I thought you said the man stabbed the girl and killed her immediately?"

"It wasn't the victim he was talking to," Zeke reponded.

"Oh? None of that was in your statement," Nick said, and his voice rose a little. He could smell a drop or two of blood in the water now. "Well, if the man wasn't talking to the victim, who do you believe he was talking to, then?"

"The other woman who was there," Zeke replied earnestly. He knew he wasn't supposed to say that, but you were expected to tell the truth when you put your hand on that Bible. Zeke had a messed-up life now, but he took that oath seriously. God would be disappointed enough in Zeke without adding being a liar to the mix.

The prosecutor's heart sank. He knew it had been risky, using a guy like Zeke as a witness. But aside from some very iffy surveillance footage, Zeke was all the DA had. He'd actually been surprised that he'd been able to bring Dean Winchester to trial with so little evidence in the first place.

"Oh, so now you're saying there was another woman there?" Nick said sarcastically. "Yet somehow, you forgot to mention it, all this time?"

"I was afraid to," Zeke mumbled, and the prosecutor let out the breath he'd been holding. He'd thought for sure that Zeke was going to throw him under the bus by saying that the DA had told him to withhold that part.

"Why don't you just tell us what you REALLY saw, then? From the beginning," Nick said to Zeke in an exasperated tone.

So Zeke related the entire story of how the woman and the defendant just suddenly appeared in the alley, gripping the young girl in the red hoodie by her arms. The woman had offered the defendant a weapon, but he had said that he had one of his own, and produced a large serrated knife. Then the woman he'd been talking to disappeared into thin air, and Mr. Winchester had stabbed the young girl to death.

"That's quite the story," Nick said softly, once Zeke was finished. "Maybe you should be writing horror movies, or fantasy novels. Are you aware that huffing turpentine can cause hallucinations, Mr. Nicholson?"

"I'm telling the truth!" Zeke exclaimed. "Ask HER, if you don't believe me!" He pointed at Gail, and everyone in the courtroom started to talk all at once, as Gail's heart sank.

The Judge had called a recess in order to settle things down, and Nick was talking to Gail now, under Cas's watchful eye.

"What's he talking about?" Nick asked her sternly. "WERE you there?"

"Of course I was there," she responded. "Well, I was in the vicinity, anyway. I already told you that. We told you, I was on the street around the corner, and so was Dean. We were trying to get help for my nephew, who'd just been shot. THAT's where we were. I don't know where that guy's getting his story from, but we weren't in any alley murdering anyone, we were busy getting my nephew to the hospital."

Nick was eyeing her coolly. The whole thing was too fantastic to believe. Gail and Dean around the corner, loading her nephew, a gunshot victim, into an ambulance. A young girl being stabbed to death around the corner in an alleyway at that same time, by a guy who apparently looked just like Dean. Where the hell were they? Detroit? Lebanon typically had two or three murders in an entire calendar year. That was it. What the hell were these people trying to pull? But he'd already been to the hospital to talk to the EMTs in question, and both men had sworn Affidavits that both Dean and Gail had been there with Rob when they'd pulled up. So unless Dean had an evil twin, or Gail had been cloned, the witness was either lying, or just sorely mistaken.

Nick sighed. "OK. Well, as far as I'm concerned, the witness has lost all credibility. Armstrong might try to rehabilitate him on redirect, but I don't see how he can. People appearing and then disappearing into thin air, being in two places at once? Forget it. He's done."

Gail was relieved, but she felt badly for Zeke, too. The man was just trying to do the right thing, telling the truth as he had seen it. She glanced at Cas, and he gave her a small nod in return.

"Excuse me for a moment," Cas said. "I'll meet you back in the courtroom." Then he left the small anteroom where Nick had taken Gail for their private conversation.

Cas went into the hallway. He could see the prosecutor sitting with Zeke on a bench a little further down the corridor. Cas walked casually to the water fountain, and now he was within earshot of the conversation. Well, earshot for a celestial being, that was.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Armstrong," Zeke was saying. "I know you told me not to say that, but I swore on the Bible to tell the truth. And regardless of the type of person I've become, that still means something to me."

Cas felt compassion for the man. When Gail had given him that look, Cas had realized that the two of them were thinking along the same lines. So Cas frowned when Armstrong said, ""Well, all it means to me is that you're done. You can keep the suit, but other than that, your free ride is over. Good luck." He got up and walked away.

Zeke sat there sadly. He'd only wanted to do the right thing. Now the DA was angry with him, the defendant might get away with murder, and Zeke was homeless again. It had been so glorious, eating regular meals and sleeping in a real bed. He'd always thought that doing the right thing would be its own reward. But, life had been kicking Zeke in the teeth for years, now; why should this be any different?

"You have a smudge of dirt on your head," Cas said softly. He had moved swiftly to the bench, and as Zeke looked at him, Cas touched Zeke's forehead with two fingers. As he healed Zeke of his drug addiction, Cas slipped some money into Zeke's suit pocket, modifying his memory at the same time. "They're expecting you at the Veterans' Administration office, Zeke," Cas told the man. "They're going to give you a job."

Zeke was dazed. What was he doing, sitting here in this building? He tried to remember where he'd been last, and he found that he was unable to do it. He looked down at himself. He had a suit on, so he must be going to his appointment at the VA. "A job?" he said to Cas uncertainly. Zeke couldn't remember the last time anybody had given him a job.

"Yes," Cas confirmed. He put out his hand, and Zeke took it. "You're a good person, who some bad things have happened to," Cas went on. "Go to the VA, Zeke. They'll help you, there."

Zeke nodded. He rose slowly from the bench and started walking down the hallway to the exit.

Cas walked to the men's room. It was unoccupied, so he popped himself over to the Veterans' Administration office downtown, making arrangements for a counsellor to receive Zeke, as soon as he arrived. Then Cas returned to the courtroom where the trial was set to resume, telling Gail quietly what he had done.

"I love you, sweetie," she said, smiling warmly at him. "You know, we need to be doing more of that kind of thing."

He took her hands in his. "We'll talk about that, after this is over."

Once the session resumed, the prosecutor introduced the surveillance footage as evidence. They showed the video to the jury, but as Nick had advised, the film was grainy. It showed a tall man and a shorter woman in an alley. The man had something in his hand. He thrust it towards the female, she fell to the ground, and then the male figure was running up the alley and turning the corner, out of sight. And that was it. No other female, no sudden appearances or disappearances.

"Objection, Your Honour," Nick said, rising to his feet. "It's too late for April Fools'. Does my esteemed colleague really expect us to be able to identify anyone from that video? You can't even see the man's face!"

Judge Pike frowned. He had been watching the video on the monitor that was by his bench, and he tended to agree. "Sustained. What other evidence do you have, Mr. Armstrong?"

The DA let out a frustrated breath. "I was supposed to have received some additional footage from the bank on the other corner," he told the Judge, "but my assistant told me we don't have it yet. Begging the Court's indulgence, if you will allow me to, I'll follow up. In fact, if you would kindly recess for the day, I'll drive over there and get it myself, if I have to."

Judge Pike frowned. What part of "fast-track" did this man not understand? "All right, Mr. Armstrong. But you had better be here bright and early tomorrow morning with more evidence, or my first impulse will be to dismiss the case for lack of evidence, and my second will be to sentence you to contempt, for wasting this Court's time. We're adjourned until tomorrow." He banged his gavel and rose, sweeping out of the room.

The next morning, the defense was jubilant. It was five minutes before the trial was set to resume for the day, and the DA wasn't in his usual seat.

"We're gonna have to have a big party when you get out," Gail said to Dean. "I'll go on Google and learn how to bake a cake, and I'll put a file in it."

While Cas tried to figure out why the cake would have paperwork in it, Sam added, "I'll do some research and find out what kind of food they serve in the State Penitentiary," going along with the joke.

"You guys think you're being funny, but you're not," Dean grumbled. "I don't need a party. I'll just be glad to be sleeping in a place that doesn't smell like pee, 24/7."

"I suppose I owe you an apology," Cas said to Nick. "I doubted your ability to defend Dean properly."

Nick looked at him. What a weird dude. "Thank you, I guess," he said dryly.

With only a couple of minutes to spare, the DA strode into the courtroom, taking his seat. He looked over at the defense table, and then he smiled.

"Why is he smiling?" Dean asked Nick. "He's not supposed to be smiling."

Judge Pike rapped the gavel, calling the hearing to order. "So, Mr. Armstrong, what'll it be? Do you have the video?"

"No, Your Honour," the prosecutor said, rising from his chair. "I have something better. I have an eyewitness, who also has video footage of the event. Clear video footage, showing the defendant's face."

"Well, present your evidence, then," the Judge said.

"The State calls Samantha Stephens," Mr. Armstrong said.

They all turned to look at the courtroom doors, where a short woman with long black hair was standing. She walked down the aisle with her head held high, not looking at the defense table on her way by. But she had a little smile on her face.

"Oh, come on!" Dean exclaimed as Rowena took the stand.

Judge Pike rapped his gavel again. "Mr. Warner, control your client," he said sternly. "Mr. Armstrong, please proceed."

Dean was fuming, and so were his brother and the Angels. But the Judge was looking murderous now, and the DA was already approaching the witness stand, where Rowena was sitting down, smoothing out the wrinkles on her dress.

"Damn witch," Dean muttered.

"Can't you call a recess?" Sam said to Nick, tapping Dean's lawyer on the shoulder.

"You're kidding, right?" Nick said testily.

"Mr. Warner, do you want to be a guest of the Court tonight, or do you think you can remain silent long enough to hear some testimony?" Judge Pike said sarcastically.

Nick swore under his breath. "My sincere apologies to the Court," he said out loud.

The prosecutor approached the witness stand. "Mrs. Stephens - " he began, but Rowena interrupted him. "It's 'Ms.'," she said sweetly. He took a breath. God help him with this woman. "Sorry. MS. Stephens," he amended. But he'd better be polite to her now. She'd pretty much single-handedly saved his case. Yesterday, when he'd gotten back to his office trying to get his tail out from between his legs, she had been waiting in his reception area. And when she'd told him what she had witnessed, and shown him the video she had captured on her cell phone, he had breathed a giant sigh of relief.

"Can you tell us, in your own words, what you witnessed on the day in question?" the prosecutor asked Rowena.

Gail rolled her eyes. What a stupid, made-for-TV movie question. Who else's words would she use?

Cas's lips were pressed tightly together. Gail had told them what Gabriel had said about Raguel wanting vengeance, but she had not gone into any further detail, figuring the rest should probably remain between her and Cas, as it was Heaven's business. Cas realized that the Archangel had probably dispatched Rowena to hammer a nail into Dean's metaphorical coffin. But if she had been there, watching, why hadn't she come forward sooner?

"It was horrible," Rowena said in a tremulous voice, bursting into tears. "I saw that man - " she pointed to Dean " - murder a young girl, in cold blood!"

"And you have video footage that was taken from your cell phone to prove it, don't you?" the prosecutor said eagerly.

"Yes, I do," Rowena said, sniffling back her fake tears. She really felt like laughing, though. Look at the looks on their faces.

"I have uploaded the video from Ms. Stephens' cell phone, and we will play it now, with the Court's permission," Armstrong said.

Judge Pike waved his hand in acquiescence, and a moment later, the video came up on the screens.

Gail's eyes widened. The footage showed Dean Winchester stabbing a young girl with a big knife, and then running away as she fell to the pavement. Crap.

"That's b.s.," Dean muttered. "Where's the black smoke?"

Gail's heart sank. Rowena must have edited that part out, somehow. Great. What were they supposed to do about this, now? Aside from telling Dean that he really shouldn't wear that shirt with those pants...

Wait. Wait a minute. "Call a recess," Gail said to Nick.

He ignored her, rolling his eyes. Why on earth had he ever decided to take this stupid case in the first place? These people were driving him nuts.

"Call a recess," Gail insisted again. "That video's a fake, and I can prove it!"

"Let me guess, Mr. Warner," the Judge said sarcastically. "You want to call a recess."

Nick stood. "I'm very sorry, Your Honour. But to be fair, this is the first we're hearing of this witness. If I could just have ten minutes..."

Judge Pike sighed. "Fine. Ten minutes."

"It's a fake," Gail said abruptly, as soon as they had walked into the conference room.

"How can you be so sure?" Nick asked her suspiciously.

"I remember thinking just now that the shirt Dean was wearing didn't go with those pants, and then it hit me: That's because that's not what he was wearing that day!" Gail exclaimed.

"Is that all?" Nick asked her irritably. "Is that the only problem you have with it? If so, it's your word against a video. Visual evidence. Which one do you think the jury is going to believe?"

"Can you leave us alone for a moment, please?" Cas asked Nick.

The attorney threw his hands up in frustration. "Sure. Why not? I'm only Dean's lawyer. Fine. Since you all refuse to tell me what you're so obviously hiding, I'll just take a walk. Smell some flowers. See you back in the courtroom."

As soon as he exited the room, Cas turned to the others. "Gail is right. I remember what Dean had on, as well."

Dean did a double-take. "I don't know how you both remember what I was wearing that day, when I don't. But anyway, he's right. It's our word against hers. Son of a bitch."

"'Samantha Stephens'? I guess she thinks she's being funny," Sam fumed.

"How about those EMTs?" Gail said. "I wonder if THEY would remember what you were wearing. Or, there might be some security footage from the hospital, when we brought Rob in?"

"She also has you killing that Demon with the wrong kind of blade," Cas said matter-of-factly.

Dean fixed him with a baleful glare. "Oh, well, thanks, Sherlock. We'll just tell the jury that, then. I'm not guilty of killing her with that knife, I'm guilty of killing her with THIS one. That's really helpful."

"But Officer, he was already dead when I shot him," Gail quipped nervously.

Dean glared at her now. "Yeah? Laugh it up there, Gail. Well, I hope you like the smell of pee, cause you're gonna be smelling it a lot when I go to the State Pen, and you have to visit me there."

"I know Rowena doesn't exactly love any of us, but why would she care about Dean going to jail for murder?" Sam inquired now.

Cas and Gail exchanged a glance, and then the Angels reminded the brothers what Gabriel had said about Raguel. "Apparently, Raguel thinks that all of you are making me soft," Cas postulated. "I think he thinks that if I lose my family, I will become the vengeful God that he seems to want."

"'Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord'," Sam quoted in a serious tone.

"Exactly," Cas confirmed.

"Why doesn't he just kill us all, then, if he wants us out of the way so bad?" Dean asked Cas.

"He probably thinks that killing humans is beneath him," Cas said dispassionately. "He would not wish to tarnish his blade with your tainted blood."

"Oh. Well, all righty, then," Dean said sarcastically.

"I'll go over to the hospital and see if I can get some corroboration on what Dean was wearing that day," Sam told them. "Try to get Nick to stall as much as he can," he instructed Dean. "Maybe if he antagonizes Rowena, she'll get mad and say something to hurt her story."

"Or she'll turn him into a toad, or something," Dean said, smirking.

Rowena had no interest in turning anyone into an amphibian, but she did want to do her part to make sure that Dean Winchester was sent away to prison. She'd been wanting to screw with all of them for ages, and now, her association with Raguel was finally affording her the opportunity.

But the witch was well aware that her testimony and doctored video may not be enough to do the trick. It wouldn't be easy to get to every member of the jury, though she had secreted a hex bag in the deliberations room. No, it would be much more logical to try to influence the Judge, instead.

Rowena knocked on the door of Judge Pike's chambers office. She was a little surprised there wasn't an officer outside the door, providing security. If there was, she had been prepared for that. But, so much the better. Now, she need only use the spell once.

"Come in," Judge Pike called out.

Rowena entered his office. "I wonder if I might talk to you for a wee minute?" she said to him.

Pike frowned. "You're not supposed to be here. You're an active witness, in the middle of your testimony."

As soon as she got a little closer to him, the Judge should start to feel it. So Rowena moved forward boldly, walking up to his desk and then around it, standing beside his chair. She leaned forward, showing him an ample amount of cleavage.

"My apologies, Magistrate," Rowena said formally. As a witch who had lived in ancient times, she had dealt with Judges before. If she could handle an Inquisition or three, she could certainly handle this man. "I simply wanted to talk to you about the defendant for a moment."

"Well, your presence here is improper," Judge Pike said testily. "I can't talk to you, about any aspect of the case."

"Fair enough," Rowena purred. She leaned forward even more. "Maybe we can talk about other things, then. Haven't you ever been improper before? It can be really fun, if you do it properly."

She was close enough to him now. She grazed her fingernails along his robe-clad arm. "I've often wondered what judges wear under these things," she said softly. "Hopefully, it's the same thing that my countrymen wear under their kilts." She bent down and whispered into his ear. "Nothing."

"You need to leave, now," the Judge said angrily. Then he inhaled deeply, and as Rowena began to smile, he said something very peculiar to her: "How old are you, anyway?"

Rowena was taken aback. She scrutinized his face. Why on earth would he be asking her that question? Did he know something about her that he shouldn't? "How old do you think I am?" she countered. It was the oldest line in the book, but hopefully the stall tactic would give her a moment to take his measure.

Somewhat surprisingly, his lips twitched briefly. "I know better than to fall into that trap," Pike said. "My mother trained me very well." Then he frowned. "But you have to leave now. If you won't go peacefully, I'll have to have my bailiff remove you."

I'd just like to see him try, Rowena thought spitefully. What the hell was wrong with this man? She was oozing sex appeal, here. She'd put on double the amount of the attraction scent. But it clearly wasn't working, for some reason. She'd better go, though, before the Judge became antagonized. The hex bag she had on her person would just have to go unused, at least for the time being.

Rowena murmured an apology and strode angrily out of the office. She turned the corner, intending to go back to the courtroom to wait out the recess.

"You must be losing your touch, Mother," Crowley said with amusement. He seized her by the arm and popped her out of the building.

They still had a couple of minutes to spare until the recess was over, and Cas intended to take full advantage. True to his word, Nick had not returned to the anteroom, so Cas popped out, telling the others he'd be back momentarily. Then he'd winked over to the crossroads, telling Crowley where his mother was.

Rowena had been caught completely by surprise. She was chained securely to a chair in whatever location Crowley had spirited her away to, and she was spitting mad. How had he known where she was? Had Castiel told him? But, God and the King of Hell were mortal enemies, weren't they? And where was Raguel, her so-called protector, now?

"Let me go, Ferrrgus," she hissed at her son.

"Oh, well, since you asked so nicely...no," he said sarcastically. "Funny, I would never have pegged you for a Samantha. Maybe more like an Endora. Or a Broom Hilda."

"What's the point of keeping me prisoner here?" she asked him. "We both know that you can't kill me."

"Who said anything about killing you?" Crowley said calmly. "No, we're going to have a little chat, that's all. A family get-together, let us say. But first, I have to perform a little quid pro quo. That's Latin for 'you scratch my back, and I'll scratch yours.' Not that you would know anything about that sort of thing. Everything you've ever done, in your entire, wretched existence, has been for yourself, and yourself, only. You and your Archangel boyfriend were willing to trigger a Holy War in which millions would have perished. And for what, Mother? Just so you could sit back and pretend that you're the Queen of it all? What do you suppose Raguel will do with you, after you're no longer of any use to him?"

"He'll give me his protection, which is more than you ever did for me. My own son," Rowena sniffed disdainfully.

"Says the woman who tried to sell me for three pigs, and then abandoned me," Crowley said pointedly.

"That was centuries ago," Rowena retorted, rolling her eyes. "When are you finally going to let that go?"

"Never," the King of Hell rasped.

"Well, you got your payback, didn't you?" she shot back. "You let Gail kill me."

"And yet, here you are," Crowley snarked. "How did that happen, Mother?"

"I have my secrets," she said airily.

"I'm sure you do," he said, nodding. "I'm sure you do. Well, I need to take care of some business. We'll have care and share time when I get back." He snapped his fingers and disappeared.

Damn it, and damn him! Rowena thought. She strained at her bonds, but of course, it was no use. What the hell was she supposed to do now?

Crowley met Cas outside the courthouse. "So we have a deal, then," the King of Hell said to God. "If I do this for you, you will come with me and help interrogate my mother. She'll tell us where Raguel is, in the end. I have no doubt of it. If she thinks we might spare her miserable hide, she will give him up in a flash. Mother's number one priority has always been...Mother."

Cas nodded. "Agreed. After Dean is exonerated, we will deal with Rowena and Raguel. But, you are absolutely certain that you will be able to help us with Dean's situation? They seem bound and determined to convict him."

Crowley gave him a thin smile. "Be that as it may...Have the attorney for the defense tell the Judge that he has a character witness to call. Then, I'll take care of the rest."

"A character witness? How low have we sunk, here?" Gail piped up. She had stepped outside for a moment to get a breath of fresh air before the trial resumed, and had seen the two of them talking. She wasn't even surprised. It was unclear exactly what her lack of surprise signified, but Gail thought it was ironic that her husband seemed to spend more time with the King of Hell these days than he did with any of the Angels. Still, it didn't appear as though the usual death threats were being exchanged, so she supposed that was something, anyway.

Crowley smirked. "Need I remind you that I've known Dean Winchester even longer than you have, sweetheart? Quite frankly, I daresay I know certain aspects of him even more intimately than your dear husband. Take any entendres you like from that statement."

Gail rolled her eyes. "Okay, first of all, ewwwwww," she retorted tartly. "You know, I'd ask why you're here, but we don't have the time for one of your soliloquies. The trial is reconvening."

"I'll be outside, in the hallway," Crowley told Cas, ignoring her. "I'll make my grand entrance when called upon, saving the day. Element of surprise, and all that. Don't worry, Castiel. Leave it to me."

"What was THAT all about?" Gail asked Cas suspiciously, as they hurried back into the courthouse. "What are you doing now?"

"Fixing it," Cas said tersely.

Gail let out a frustrated breath. She sure hoped Cas knew what he was doing. But there was no time for further discussion. The bailiffs were closing the courtroom doors. She and Cas slipped in just before they did.

Cas told Nick quickly and quietly that they had a witness to appear on Dean's behalf, and the lawyer said, "Fine, but I have to cross-examine Ms. Stephens, first. Then, if the prosecutor rests, we'll put your witness on."

But of course, "Ms. Stephens" was no longer at the courthouse. The prosecutor was beside himself. What the hell else was going to go wrong with this case? "I'm sorry, Your Honour," he said, agitated. "We can't find Ms. Stephens anywhere. I told her to stay here in the courthouse, but she appears to have disappeared."

"If she's not available for me to cross-examine, I move that her testimony be stricken from the record," Nick said loudly. He was thrilled. This could be just the break they needed.

"I'm inclined to agree with the defense," Judge Pike said, albeit reluctantly. "Is there anything further, Mr. Armstrong?"

"I move that Ms. Stephens' video remain in evidence," Armstrong pleaded. "Whether she is here or not, that is tangible physical evidence."

"So moved," the Judge said.

"The prosecution rests," the DA said, sitting down.

"Fine," Pike said. "Mr. Warner?"

"I would like to call a character witness on Mr. Winchester's behalf," Nick replied.

A character witness. Judge Pike narrowly refrained from rolling his eyes. He looked at Cas. "That ship has sailed, Mr. Warner. Ever hear of a little thing called evidence? Have you got any of that?"

Nick pursed his lips. Sam had called on his way back from the hospital to advise that the EMTs who had taken Rob to Emergency that day were on holidays. And if he needed to have his brother's attorney view any security footage the hospital might have from that day, they had to first go through the proper channels, he was told.

"No, Your Honour. I do not," Nick said in a subdued tone.

"Well then, I'm afraid you're out of luck," the Judge remarked. "But, on the bright side, it looks like we're going to come in on schedule after all, in spite of all the numerous delays."

"But, Your Honour, if I could just - " Nick said, gesturing futilely.

"Mr. Warner, if you request another recess, I will send you to the lockup until the Seattle Mariners win the World Series," Pike said irritably. "I wouldn't test me, if I were you."

Nick heaved a heavy sigh. "Fine. The defense rests, then."

"Great," Judge Pike said, looking at the jury. "You may begin deliberations now. No pressure, but the sooner we can wrap this up, the better. It shouldn't take you very long." He rapped his gavel. "Dismissed."

"But - " Dean said, gesturing.

"But - " Cas said, turning to look at the courthouse doors.

"What the hell just happened here?" Gail said angrily.

"You heard the man. The trial is over," Nick said, tight-lipped. "I have a wife, two kids, a mortgage, and a viable law practice. When I passed the Bar, I swore to defend my clients to the best of my ability. But I didn't swear to throw my life away for any of them, either. And the Seattle Mariners have the highest ERA and the lowest batting average in the league. I'm going for lunch."

Once the lawyer had left the courtroom, Gail turned to Cas, bewildered. "But what about Crowley?"

"Crowley?" Dean exclaimed. "What do you mean? What ABOUT Crowley?" He turned to Cas. "What kind of stupid-ass deal did you make with him, Cas?"

"It wasn't a stupid-ass deal, Dean," Cas insisted. "It was what you would call a 'win-win'." But he was distressed now. He hadn't seen this coming. The jury had already filed out of the room to begin their deliberations. What would they decide?

"There's no way you're getting convicted," Gail said to Dean confidently. "Their so-called 'evidence' is non-existent. I can't even believe they were allowed to put you on trial with so little. Think about it: the guy from the dumpster who saw us came across as delusional, the man on that store's video could be anybody, Rowena's testimony has been stricken, and her video is a fake."

"Yeah, but the jury doesn't know that," Dean said nervously. "And even if her testimony was 'stricken', whatever the hell that means in the real world, they still heard it, didn't they?"

He was right, but Gail still thought it wasn't nearly enough to convict. Plus, two-thirds of the jury were women, and the way she'd seen a few of them looking at Dean, Gail didn't believe for a second that those women were ready to convict him.

She turned to Cas. "Why was Crowley willing to help us? What was in it for him?"

Cas told her about the deal he had struck with the King, and Gail and Dean looked at each other. "I guess I owe you an apology," Dean said to Cas. "For once, you didn't make a stupid-ass deal."

Gail was smirking. "Yeah. 'For once'," she echoed Dean. "That's quite the apology. But I guess it's the best one you're going to get, sweetie." She took Cas's hand and gave it a squeeze, and his face lit up. She had been a little cooler to him since this whole thing had begun, and a lot less physically demonstrative, too.

Dean noticed the look on Cas's face also, and he frowned. "Once this whole thing is over, you two are gonna tell me what's going on with you," he said sternly. "And don't tell me nothing, because I know better."

Cas and Gail looked at each other. Yes, they would have to tell all of their loved ones that they had separated, and that they were going to annul their marriage. Hopefully, everyone would understand that this was what they had to do, to get everything back on track.

Suddenly, Judge Pike came back into the courtroom. "The jury has finished deliberating," he announced to the people who were left in the room. "Once Mr. Armstrong and Mr. Warner have returned, the verdict will be read."

Crowley sauntered into the room, sitting beside Cas. "What in the bloody hell is going on?" he asked the group. "I was outside, waiting to be called, and now the jury's coming back with a verdict? I trust you're not reneging, Castiel."

"No," Cas said shortly. "But as it turns out, we may not need your dubious assistance, after all."

Crowley looked at Gail. "Your husband has no idea how to express gratitude, does he, sweetheart?"

Sam and Nick came back into the courtroom together, and a minute later, the DA entered.

"Are we all here now?" Judge Pike said wearily. He was looking at the defense table now. No, staring at the defense table was more like it, Gail thought. Then she followed his gaze, and she realized that he was actually looking at Cas and Crowley, and he was frowning deeply. What was THAT all about?

But there was no time to try to figure it out. The jury filed in and took their seats, but the foreperson remained standing.

"In the matter of the State versus Dean Winchester, how say you?" the Judge said formally.

"Guilty, Your Honour," the woman said, looking sadly at Dean.

"Thank you all for your service," Judge Pike said, rapping his gavel. "You are hereby dismissed."

As the jury filed out the side door, the Judge looked at Dean. "I will pass sentence tomorrow," Pike said, expressionless. Then he swept out of the room.

"This will not stand," Cas said angrily, his voice shaking with emotion. "I will rain down Holy fire on this building, and all of its occupants. I will - "

"Relax, Castiel," Crowley said, amused. "Is he this intense in the bedroom, sweetheart?" he asked Gail. "I don't know whether to be thrilled for you, or send you a sympathy card. I'll see you all back here tomorrow. Try to keep the Holy fire to a minimum in the meantime, will you, Castiel? But just in case things don't work out the way they should tomorrow, I'll bring the marshmallows." He rose and left the courtroom.

Crowley stood facing Rowena. "Change of plans, Mother. You and I are going to have that chat, right now."

"Oh, good," Raguel said, stepping out from the shadows. "I've been looking forward to this."

\- END OF BOOK 31. -


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